Non Sum Qualis Eram
by Dalamar's Mercy
Summary: It's a war that's been fought for years. To Harry it doesn't matter. He has no hope, having been held prisoner by Voldermort for 4 years. Sirius, Remus, and most of the Weasly's are dead, along with many others. So what hope could he possibly have left?
1. The Story's Set

**_A/N_**. This is a response to a challenge by Nagini. It's challenge number one. Details of the challenge will be posted in the last chapter. I'm currently going through and rewriting the whole thing, so I can finally get this story completed. eyeroll I guess a two year break isn't _that_ bad...ducks

**_Disclaimer:_** If you think I own this, you miraculously, are crazier then me. Don't sue, all I own is an enormous fat cat named Muffin, and a piece of paper I call Bob.

**Extended Summary:** Harry was captured by Voldermort four years ago. Hermione is Draco's toy. Ron, Remus and Sirius are dead. Harry has nearly given up hope of being rescued, when a familiar person is captured and suddenly shows up in Harry's cell….

_**Rating:**_ Rated R for sex (non-graphic), violence, nudity, excessive, slightly graphic torture, death, and harsh language. Also minor slash.

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**Chapter 1**

**Harry's P.O.V**

If you've ever read in novels about the… Hero being tortured for valuable information, you've probably thought at some point, 'Oh, I could survive through that'. 'I'd never give in; I'd never betray my friends; I'm strong enough; I'd never.loose.hope'. That's what I used to think as well. But that's only until you do in fact, go through the torture. The pain is…indescribable, not to mention unbearable. They could do… countless, things to you. Ripping off your nails, probably being the mildest form of torture. In my opinion of course. Imagine a hang nail; you all must have had one at one point. Now remember what it feels like, the pain, of when the hang nail catches on something. When they rip off your nails it's like that, only a hundred times worse. The sharp pain as your nail is ripped off your flesh, the skin tears and rips, and as the air touches it, it starts to burn, as if you've submerged your hand into a hot fire and left it there to roast. And the horrible part about this, is they can do it over and over again, with all ten of your finger nails and with your ten toenails.

Now keep in mind I said this was the mildest form of torture. You've also got your whipping, cutting, burning, slow gutting, hanging, the breaking of limbs, the rack, thumbscrews, impaling, being mangled by wild animals, staking, boiled alive, being hung by your ears or hair, and an experienced torturer can think up a hundred or thousand other hellish tortures. Speaking from experience, these can make even the Cruciatus Curse seem mild.

Tell me again if you think you can stand it.

It's been four years since I was captured by He-who-must-not-be-named. Yeah, I've started calling him by that, despite what Dumbledore told me, all those years ago. Oh… wait, that's right, it was only four years ago that he reminded me of that. But calling him by his true name, earns me one of those tortures that I just mentioned.

The war still rages between He and the wizarding world. I _know _the side of light will win, they just have to. But I don't know how much longer **_I_** can go on…

I lay naked on the bed as Voldemort pleasured himself with me. Even as only half a human, (the other part being snake), he still needed to fulfill his desires, and who better to use then me, his old arch-enemy, who stopped him from rising to power eighteen, long years ago. Who better to humiliate…to rape…then me? I learnt a long time ago just to let him do what he wanted; the sooner he did, the sooner it was over, and I could go back to the comforts of my cell.

He stared at me when he was done, gasping hard, and I succeeded in resisting the urge to look away. Nearly. He gave a pleasurable hiss when he realized his stare had succeeded in making me feel even more uncomfortable, then got off me, while motioning to two Deatheaters standing guard by the door. I couldn't see who they were; these two chose to wear their masks and have their hoods up, even though it wasn't required until they were out of the borders of the lair. I could already guess who they were though. McNair, was easy to pick out, being one of the biggest Deatheaters in service to Him. And by big, I mean his robes were ready to burst at the seams. The other was probably Adams, although I was only guessing because he was usually the one on duty the same time as McNair.

They picked me up roughly, ignoring my loud hiss of pain as they grabbed me by my partially healed arm, (it had been broken about two weeks ago, and only half-heartedly mended) and my mind became clouded as they dragged me back to my cell. I lay on the cold, and slightly damp stone floor for what must have been half an hour, as I tried to clear my head, before I picked myself up and half-stumbled half-crawled over to the thick blanket that, when fashioned right, managed to serve as a mattress, pillow _and_ sheet and I quickly fell asleep.

_I was watching myself. It felt weird, I watched myself fly on my broom; flying aimlessly around in the sky…wait, no, I was playing Quidditch at Hogwarts, flying higher and towards the sun, not able to see a thing, but where I somehow knew the Snitch was headed. All of a sudden, the sun's face turned into Snape's great greasy head; I couldn't understand... why was something as beautiful as the sun turning into as something as dark and evil as that, that thing?  
_

_Then the scene became familiar, and could see it like a three dimensional movie. Where the characters seemed solid…I watched in horror as Snape, I couldn't see his face, but I knew it was him, and several other masked Deatheaters appeared in the kitchen where I was staying at the Weasley's. Then He appeared. I tried to warn them, but they couldn't hear me, it was just a dream… so I tried to attack the Deatheaters, clinging on to the hope that despite what I've been told, you could change the past… but none of my spells worked. I watched myself frozen in place as Snape strode over and binded the me in the dream, killing Ron who darted after him, trying to stop him. I tried to jump in front of the spell, but it went right through me. I watched them kill the others as they resisted, Percy, George, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny… For the first time, I was glad Hermione had decided to go to Bulgaria._

_I was finally seeing how it all happened. I was watching how I got captured. In the memory, I was already unconscious, so how could I be watching what I never saw in the first place?_

_The scene changed again, and this time I watched myself crumble as I was given the news that all the light-side werewolves had been killed. I was forced to watch with my own eyes, as they tied Remus Lupin down, and then, he was…impaled. Over and over again, the Deatheaters stabbed him with blunt wooden stakes. Not where it would kill him of course. No, they had something better for him. They made him swallow some molten silver. I couldn't even begin to imagine the pain let alone describe it…I knew that silver had to be heated to incredible temperatures to melt, and then the fact that werewolves are allergic to it in the first place…_

_I again watched his face contort and twist in unbearable pain, his lips melting as they touched the hot beaker in which the silver was held. The Harry in the memory, tears pouring down his…my, face as I watched Remus struggled weakly against his bonds to move his hands to try and rub away the pain as the liquid silver went down his throat, melting his esophagus, then his stomach. And then I heard his retching as he tried to spit it back up._

_I watched again in utter disgust as he choked on the foul stuff, and then, as it filled and melted his lungs, I watched as the agony over took him, he gave up the fight, and slowly, he died…_

_The scene changed again, and I watched as Hermione was dragged passed my cell. My sixteen year old, past self was calling out to her, until Lucius Malfoy, my 'keeper' hit me in the face with a brick. I winced as I remembered the crack as my nose broke, and the sharp pain shooting to my brain. It didn't really matter, I was becoming use to things like that happening, and Hermione didn't hear me anyway. Her once curly hair was now board straight, but you couldn't really tell that at the time. It fell across, hiding her face, and was matted with something that I now realized was blood. I didn't notice it at the time though, I had a cut above my eye and blood was streaming into it, impairing my vision as I gazed at Hermione._

_She was dropped into the cell next to mine, but I remember nothing I said made her wake up. That memory faded, and everything was white. I looked around, wondering what I was going to see next, and then the memory that rivals Remus's death appeared. Draco entered her cell, Hermione herself only beginning to stir, and I watched in horror as he ripped her clothes off, but still managing to make a huge production out of it to torment me, and then, began to rape her. I turned away to spare Hermione what little pride she had left._

_**But nothing**, I remembered grimly to myself, **blocked out her screaming as she awoke.**_

_Draco took her when he left, and I have only seen her once since, being made to fulfill her role_ as _Malfoy's whore. I nearly didn't recognize her; her hair had been cut off so it was short, bruises decorated her face, and everything that made her Hermione, her passion for learning, her pride, and confidenceall of it!was gone. And this new Hermione… **I just don't want to remember her, anymore, **I thought to myself._

The scene changed yet again, and I jerked awake up to the same memory I always do. The memory of being told Sirius was dead. I was just glad, that for once, they couldn't make me witness it, for Sirius had not been killed by Deatheaters, but by Minister Fudge, just before he in turn was killed.

I lay there shivering, even under my warm blanket, and I tried to forget the all too familiar nightmare that has plagued me every single night since I was captured, until I heard the familiar jangle of keys and the thud of boots on the cobblestone floor.

Lucius Malfoy came striding down the hallway, a small tin bowl in his hand. I struggled briefly with the blanket as I tried to sit up; if I didn't, I wouldn't be allowed dinner that evening.

Lucius Malfoy was my…keeper. That's what You-know-who called him. Since Lucius failed to capture me that night of the Tri-Wizard tournament, he was demoted from He-who-must-not-be-named's inner circle, to the role of the jailkeeper and two years later, when his son came of age, he was promoted to take his place. Lucius took out all his humiliation; his hatred... from which he still hadn't recovered from, out on me whenever he pleased. I was just thankful You-Know-Who didn't allow him to use any implements.

Lucius fumbled with the lock on the door briefly, the spell slurring as he spoke the words, then entered my cell He set the bowl on the iron table in the corner, then threw me a relatively clean set of clothes.

"You hurry and eat that Potter," he spat, his eyes flashing, "the Dark Lord isn't finished with you yet. He has commanded your presence for seven tonight." He pulled a large silver pocketwatch, on a long fine chain out of his pocket. "You have ten minutes."

I nodded quickly, my eyes averted to the floor as I was taught to do around my superiors, and I cringed as he aimed a kick my way. Only when I heard the clang of my cell door, and the sound of retreating footsteps, did I dare to look up. I quickly pulled on the robes and trousers, thankful for the little warmth the thin material of the articles provided, and then hopped up to sit on top of the table, which was the only furniture in the small cell besides my 'bed'. I gulped down the broth as quickly as I could; it was still slightly warm as well, and I was thankful for that, for now it was winter, I was having a harder and harder time trying to keep from freezing. The only time I'd recieve an extra blanket was when there was snow on the ground. I felt sorry for the other prisoners; the only reason I do get luxury items like this is, to put it simple, because I am you-know-who's whore.

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Well, there you have it, the edited first chapter. Hope you like it. Any advice, speculations comments or complaints will be greatly appreciated, just leave a review.

Dalamar


	2. Hermione's Guilt

**A/N**. This is a response to a challenge by Nagini. It's challenge number one. Details of the challenge will be posted in the last chapter.

This chapter is also unbeta-ed, but I have read it over so many times to check for mistakes, that I could probably recite it. I hope there aren't too many errors.

Kudos to Cedar, who got what the title means. (see end of chapter)

**Disclaimer:** All hail the Goddess, J.K. Rowling, who in fact did create these characters.(a.k.a I did not) I am only mutilating them. I only have, let's see digs around in her pocket 25..5..10….1…41 cents. Oh wait, there's another nickle. I have 46 cents your welcome to, if you do decide to sue.

**Extended Summary:** Harry was captured by Voldermort four years ago. Hermione is Draco's toy. Ron, Remus and Sirius are dead. Harry has nearly given up hope of being rescued, when a familiar person is captured and suddenly shows up in Harry's cell….

**Rating:** Rated R for sex (non-graphic), violence, nudity, excessive, slightly graphic torture, death, and harsh language.

**This chapter is dedicated to**: My five reviewers. Cedar, Anyadelle, Anne Pheonix, Nagini and Ageless. Thanks so much for the great reviews, giving my your speculations, and for making them more enjoyable to read then the usual two words, 'Please continue'. I hope you guys will stick with me through this story.

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Hermione P.O.V

Chapter 2.

I've been here over three years now. Here being Voldemort's Fortress. I know Harry's here as well, I actually saw him once, about two years ago. I don't know, it could be more could be less. You kind of lose track of time here. It's not relevant anyway. I know Oliver Wood is here as well, and probably numerous other people I know, were friends with, went to school with, trained with, fought beside, mourned their disappearances. . . and their supposed deaths.

I was so stupid.

When Harry went missing that summer before fifth year, school was immediately canceled for that year. Except for crash course Auror training classes, which Professor Dumbledore started up for anyone able, over the age of fifteen. I, of course signed up; I mean, come on, it was a chance to save Harry!And I had already lost Ron…

Classes went on for four months, and I think, each day of the nearly impossible classes, combined with the war, made my motivation, the prospect of finding Harry, seem very dim. Everyday, we were taught several new complex spells which we had to master by the end of the day; able to perform them in all types of conditions, remember and perform them under extreme stress. We were taught strategy, to be resourceful, to be observant, how to be ruthless and how to kill…

We were taught to be almost as ruthless as Voldemort's Death Eaters. Maybe I myself once crossed that fine line. . .Isn't there an old saying, stating that there's a thin line between love and hate?

Auror classes were canceled however, when Lord Voldemort finally grew strong enough in power, and had gathered enough forces to storm the Hogwarts castle and grounds. Out of the seven hundred and fifty teenagers and adults residing and training there to become Aurors, I think one hundred and seventy-five people were killed outright, most under the age of 25, and another twenty were captured. I was one of the 'lucky ones'; I managed to escape, and that night we were left wondering "how"? Hogwarts was supposed to be one of the safest places in the magical world!

Of course, those one hundred ninety-five people that did get taken from us, in one way or another? They're just another number to you. Statistics. Nameless faces. You can only see the surface in severity of the matter. You never knew them, never saw them struggle with difficulties and hardships, never saw their frustration and laughter. You never had earned their friendship. . . you never got to hear the wistful memories late at night, the ones not plagued with war, and _you_.never comforted them, when they were lost to the world in grief, as the news of that their family, lover or friend was killed, reached them. . .

I didn't stay free for long though.

I think it was the next August that I was captured. What should have been our sixth year at Hogwarts. . . Funny, not the funny haha, I was just sixteen and already speaking like a war veteran. I had probably seen more deaths in one year then you'd see in a hundred lifetimes. I had seen victims of torture, of rape. . . and do you know what it's like, how hard and how heart-wrenching it is, to tell a little five year old girl that she'll never see her family again? Or to finally save someone from torture, only to watch them suffer a prolonged death, because they are already too far beyond a healer's help. I mean, I was sixteen for crying out loud, I should have had to be worrying about my next homework assignment, clothes, friends and my family. . . instead, I had to worry about battle strategies, spies, field medicine and just staying alive so I could fight _again_ the next day. The war seemed to drag on forever at the time. But I changed my mind about that when I got captured. See, staring at the same wall, or fireplace day after day, the only change being Draco raping me. . . now that's when it feels like time has stopped, when it feels like reality's dragging, just to slap you in the face.

That's when you begin to lose hope.

I was careless. I had just finished my mission assigned to me by Dumbledore, who of course, was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. The mission being, to scout out Voldmort's fortress and try to pinpoint their weaknesses, and entrances. I was awaiting the time for my transport, a portkey, to leave, as I still hadn't quite mastered the ability to apparate due to lack of time to practice, and they attacked me from above. One thing we were constantly reminded in the Auror course, the one expression we had drilled into us, was to always be alert.

Always.be.alert.

By the time I noticed them, it was too late. They easily outnumbered me, knocked me unconscious, and lay in wait for my contact, Oliver Wood, who was apparating in with my portkey. We were both taken to Lord Voldemort. I knew that Oliver, being technically, of a higher rank then me because he was older, was tortured for more information. I was 'lucky' and only got thrown into a cell.

I awoke to Draco raping me. Over and over again. I did the only thing I could do; I screamed. When Malfoy was done satisfying himself, I was taken to his quarters, for he had. . .he had _claimed_ me. I noticed, as I was being dragged down the hallway, a vaguely familiar face staring back at me, but I couldn't quite place who it was. It wasn't until two long hellish days later, when I finally realized. . . it was Harry! I half-laughed, half-cried when my memory put in the last piece, and the picture was complete.

Half-laughed, because, well he was alive! We all, in the Order, had assumed him dead after all those years went by. Guaranteed, he was different, his hair was longer, nearly to his shoulders, but still just as wild and untamed. He was a lot thinner, and he had several open wounds, bruises and scars dotting his face, and his glasses were missing, but there was no mistaking that it was still Harry!

But then again, half-crying because. . . he had seen what Malfoy had done to me. He had seen Malfoy's ecstasy at raping me, with the knowledge that he was torturing both me and Harry, yet drowning in his own pleasure. Harry would know my nightmares. How could I ever look at him the same way, knowing that he had seen all that? Selfish of me, I know, for thinking that, but that's not the kind of memory you'd want people to know.

As I said, it's been three years since that happened. I am now Malfoy's pet, his whore, his pleasure slave, slut. . . pick a name, I've been called them all.

It's odd though. He must have finally grown tired with the mudblood in me, because for the past couple years, I've simply been an ornament in his room. He hasn't so much as thouched me the wrong way . Oh, don't get me wrong, he's still his old arrogant Malfoy self, but...he's changed too.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door, interrupting my musings and breaking the silence of the room, only before broken by the odd snap or crackle of the fireplace.

I saw Draco's eyes darken as he looked up, and they flashed dangerously in the firelight as he turned his head to the door.

"What is it?" He tried to bark loudly, but his heavy breathing was also noticeable in his words.

"Sir, our master Lord Voldemort demands your presence. . .I think it's an emergency."

Draco let out a heavy sigh, then heaved himself off the bed grabbing his Deatheater robes as he did so from where they had been discarded on the stone floor. Without giving me so much as a second glance, he lifted the bolt on the door, and pulled it open, revealing a short, pig-like, and very smelly little man.

"Never disturb me like this again." He threatened to the lower ranking man, with a look of pure disgust on his face as he pulled on the robes over his shirt and trousers.

"Yes, certainly sir." The pig man replied, and bowed respectively as Draco strode out of my view down the hallway.

He crossed the room, and I tried to glare defiantly at him. He drew back his hand, and I received a sharp smack across the face, and I let out a tiny, almost indistinct groan, as he hit my black eye.

"Avert your eyes when in the presence of your superiors, _Slut_!" He commanded angrily, and as his eyes took on a look I knew well, I decided not to retort back, though part of me wanted to scream the truth... the only things he was superior to were the rats.

I could see his hesitation, but he stopped himself as he remembered that, unlike the others, I was not to be shared. I belonged to Malfoy, and for the first time in my life, I was thankful for that.

"A little revealing, eh?" He commented with a smirk on his face, gesturing to my thin rags that served as my clothes.

I chose not to reply.

I watched in relief as he left, a small sigh escaping my lips, and I began to try and warm up my body with my small but thick woolen blanket. I was glad that Draco had had a moment of thoughtfulness when he had my cell set up, and had ordered it placed near the fireplace. The whole castle made entirely of stone which seemed to retain the icy coldness. The cold was just tolerable for me in the summer without the fire, and in my clothes, but in winter I was thankful for the blanket and roaring flames. I tried to cover myself up as much as possible with the blanket, eager to have more cover on my body then the clothes provided.

It was my fault that I was careless. It was my fault that I managed to forget, if for only a split second, the saying that was the first thing we learnt in the Auror classes that Mad-Eye taught. It was my fault, my carelessness that got Oliver caught, and because of that, my fault he got tortured.

_And_ _I could never, _I knew with a sense of dread that made my stomach churn_, forgive myself if he never gets out of here alive. It's all my fault!_

But though all those things that were my fault, I still had to wonder;

How?

After all of Professor Dumbledore's careful planning, all our reviewing, all the dangerous secret meeting, testing the variables… after all the precautions we took!

_How did they even know I was there?_

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******Cedar- **Technically it means refers to her little Latin book " I am not the sort of person I was" but hey, means exactly the same thing. Yes, you may have a cookie hands Cedar a huge cookie and when I find the time (a.k.a. in a few minutes, LOL) I'll read your fic.

**Anne Pheonix- **Thanks so much for the great review. I hope you don't take offense when I say your type of writing doesn't intrest me (I'm more for under NC-17winks) but by the looks of all the reviews you had, and the style of the way you reviewed, you must be an amazing writerAs for the charactization of Draco, it was part of the challenge. I'm neutral towards him; I love Draco bashing, yet I also like reading fics where he is the good guy.

Hope you liked the chapter, please review.

**Dalamar**

P.S. The title means '_I am not the sort of person I was.'_


	3. Double Agents

**A/N**. This is a response to a challenge by Nagini. It's challenge number one. Details of the challenge will be posted in the last chapter. Also, sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes, I'm trying my best to catch them all but some still manage to slip through.

If also figured out what it's like when you fics have a mind of their own.

**Disclaimer:** Everything still belongs to J.K. Rowling, even the characters Mandy, Orla, and Sally-Anne. The general plot line belongs to Nagini, and the extended plot line belongs to my twisted mind. I'm only mutilating the characters.

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**Rating:**Well, this chapter could probably be rated G! That's a first and probably a last. Nothing dark, gory, sexual, etc. at all in this chapter.

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Chapter 3

Bill's P.O.V

I hurried down the passage way to the Charms room, my hide boots making next to no sound on the stone floor, and walked in through the door just as the bell went. I went to the front of the room and faced my small class. "Sorry I'm late, I nearly forgot I was filling in for Professor Flitwick, and was having a late dinner." I glanced at my students as my brain scrambled around looking for something else to say. Having nearly forgotten I was supposed to be here, I hadn't planned anything to teach them.

"All right, I know that you have been focusing on the Summoning charm the past few classes, is that correct?"

A boy sitting in the desk closest to me nodded and so I continued. "Okay. When out on a mission, more often then not you'll find yourself with a partner. You'll usually have no say in the matter on who you will be going out with, being picked for your skills rather then who your peers are. So, one of the most important things you must learn, is how to work as part of a team. You must know your strengths, weaknesses, to learn to admit when you are wrong and you _must_ be willing to listen to ideas other then your own. In some cases, only by working as a team will you ever get out alive. I don't care whether you like the person or not. I don't care if they annoy you by boasting about beating you at a chess game, or took your chair in front of the fireplace, or are just simply not nice to you. You must forget about that as soon as you are told you are to work with them."

"And who knows," I added with a smile, "maybe by the time you come back, you'll be friends, or at least have gained some mutual respect for each other."

"Now, the same goes for if you decide to become a healer. If you cannot put your negative thoughts about your co-workers aside in a crisis, you will not accomplish your job of healing the persons you are supposed to, and may in fact, only make them worse. The same goes for if you don't agree about what you should do when treating a specific injury, just because you can't admit you are wrong. You aren't working as a team then, and again will result in only worsening the injury of the person you are trying to heal.

"Now, all of you should be able to produce a strong enough Summoning charm to bring something light, like a thin book, all the way over to you. But," I picked up off the chair, one of the heavy books Professor Flitwick usually perched on to see over the top of his desk, "sometimes you'll come across something too heavy to lift by yourself. Right now, that'd be this book. This is where knowing how to function as a team comes into play. Not one of you in this class would be able to lift this book with a Summoning charm by themselves _yet_. That takes more practice, and the most you'd be able to manage is to perhaps drag the book along the floor. But, if you were to work together with someone else, you'd be able to lift this easily. That's easier said then done of course, especially if you let things like your emotions get in the way. If you felt dislike towards your partner and you let that emotion get in the way, you would **_always_** fail."

I looked around, and saw everyone staring intently at me, and I smiled. "So, for today's lesson, I'm going to pair you up with someone, and you are going to work together to summon one of these books from across the room. But first, any questions?"

No one said anything and so before speaking again, I paused to count how many students there were. "All right, there's twelve of you, so that's going to work out just right." I quickly matched them up, handing each group a heavy book off of Flitwick's chair, then, stepping well out of the way, sat down to watch.

There were a few wild books flung around the class room, and at one point a team missed the book with their spell and picked up Colin Creevy instead, but to my astonishment, by the end of the lesson all six groups had managed to succeed in doing it at least once.

I was sprawled out on a settee even later that night, in what used to be the Great Hall, watching Dennis Creevy lose horribly to Nymphadora Tonks at a game of wizards chess. Dennis wasn't a bad player, I myself had lost a couple of times to him. No, the reason he was doing so poorly was because of the fact that his chess pieces seemed to have. . . personality. A lot of it. Half the time Dennis was forced to make his moves depending on which pieces would listen to him and the other half, he had absolutely no say in the matter. Meaning, his pieces would move where they wanted to. It all just depended on the mood they were in. Needless to say, chess games taking place with Dennis usually always provided a good laugh, and brought quite a few spectators.

I quickly lost interest in what was going on around me as Dennis (unsurprisingly) lost, and found my eyes slowly start to close; the heat of the fireplace I was lying near making me feel extremely drowsy. It had been over an hour since I had finished teaching that class; it was almost midnight, and I would have probably would have been sleeping up in the dormitory had I not been scheduled to be on watch duty of the grounds in about hour.

My eyes quickly snapped open as I felt someone flop down in a chair beside me, and, out of habit, my hand moved towards my wand.

"Sorry," Angelina Johnson apologized to me, "I didn't mean to startle you. Professor Dumbledore wanted me to let you know that he wants to see us before we go on duty."

I propped myself up a bit more on the arm of the settee, and turned to look at her. "What for?"

"I don't know, but he seemed a bit worried. Anyway, you know he wouldn't call us unless there was a good reason."

"When?"

"He said in about half an hour, there was something else he had to do first. We're all supposed to meet in the little room just to the side of the Head table."

"We all? Who else is going?"

"Just the usual. Snape, Tonks, Kingsley, McGonagall, and your father if he's here."

"No, he isn't. He's still at the Ministry debriefing them of Dumbledore's plans. I know that was part of the agreement with them, that if they put Dumbledore in charge of all the Aurors, they had to be kept updated, but it's driving dad bonkers. They're calling him out at all hours of the night wanting to know what's happening and he says it's more like they're interrogating him rather then listening to his report." I sighed and Angelina looked at me sympathetically.

"Well, on the bright side, better Dumbledore in charge of the Aurors then the Ministry. But at least they are beginning to listen to reason since Minister Fudge was killed. Sad that it took the death of the Minister to get them to see that though."

"Yeah..." I tugged on my earring absentmindedly.

"Anyway, I have to go find the others and tell them about the meeting. See you there."

I nodded, and as she got up and left, a boy of about eighteen who I had never seen before, took her place and challenged me to a quick game of Exploding Snap, the stakes being a large chocolate frog.

"I'm sorry for calling of you all here, especially at this time of night," Dumbledore began apologetically, " but you know by now that I wouldn't ask for you to be here unless I had a good reason. As you may know, fewer and fewer Aurors are returning from the missions they get sent on. In the past two months, out of the thirty-five people I have sent out, only a little over half of them have returned."

I saw Professor McGonagall shake her head sadly, and lean over to Kingsley to whisper something to her. I was rather taken aback myself, I had known that our numbers were decreasing, but I hadn't realized that it was by that much!

"You also know that I was awaiting the return of Mandy Brocklehurst and Orla Quirke, who were scouting around at the Malfoy Manor, hoping to pick up word of Voldemort's next move." Dumbledore paused then, glancing around the room and let out a small sigh. "Orla returned this early this morning. . .well, I supposed it would be yesterday morning now. The people out on guard found her, unconscious, which I believe was from exhaustion, and with only minor injuries. They took her up to the hospital wing, but she should be joining us shortly." I blinked in surprise. I hadn't been aware Dumbledore had sent any scouts out.

"What about Mandy?" Tonks spoke up, asking the question everyone else had wanted to hear, yet already had guessed the answer. I wasn't surprised when Professor Dumbledore confirmed my quick guess.

"Orla said that Mandy had been killed or captured. I don't know anything more then that." Dumbledore answered sadly.

The wooden door that we entered through gave a loud creak as it suddenly opened, making Tonks leap in surprise. I was just glad there wasn't anything for her to break in here. A brown head poked its way around the corner of the door before coming in.

Orla was almost seventeen, if I remembered correctly, and had only been out in the field for about six months, though she had signed up for Auror classes as soon as she was old enough. Even with only six months in the field she already bore the scars like the rest of us, though what was more noticeable as she limped ever so slightly across the room, was a long, fresh cut extending from beside her nose, going through her lip, and disappearing under her chin. She also had a bandage on her right arm.

"We were ambushed," she began slowly, but getting right to the point as she sat down, "they waited until we were through the anti-apparation charms. Not that it would have made any difference to me." She added as an after thought.

"It was almost if they knew we were coming. Actually, I believe the did know."

"What makes you say that?" Angelina asked.

"They knew exactly what part of the Manor grounds we were going to be coming in. They knew what time, and what for. And they knew how many."

"I had just given Mandy a boost to on top of the wall on the ground perimeters on the east-side of the manor and she got pulled over the other side. She did check, of course, before climbing up on top of the wall, but they must have ambushed her when she turned around to pull me up. I don't know how many there were, but one yelled to another that there should be another person, and one climbed over the wall after me."

"Did you see who it was?" Snape interrupted her suddenly.

"No, he had both his hood and mask on." She answered him before continuing.

"He chased after me for a bit, throwing curses as he ran, but I performed a disillousionment charm, and hid in the trees, and he missed me doing it because it was dark. I stunned him as he ran by, and then ran and hid in the meadow where we were supposed to await for our portkey to leave. Then I was transported to just outside of Hogsmeade, and I walked here." She finished up.

Dumbledore sighed, and walked over to the window, looking out over the second story view of Hogwarts grounds. Everyone else waited patiently as he gazed out thoughtfully, for what must have been five minutes, but I felt my eyelids start to droop again. Dumbledore suddenly turned around, and addressed us, "For now, we will do nothing. We'll cease all attacks unless they attack first, and no more scouts will be sent out until further notice." Thanks Orla. Go get some more rest." It was a subtle command, but Orla caught it and frowned darkly as she turned her back and headed out the door.

"Now, before I let you get back to what ever it is you were doing, does anyone have anything else to day?"

"Yes," Professor McGonagall spoke up opposite me, "we're going to have to open up another dormitory. It's simply too crowded in both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw dorms, people have been forced to sleep on chairs and the floor. I haven't had a chance to say anything to you before now."

"Right," Professor Dumbledore nodded, "re-open the Hufflepuff dorm. It's closer then the Slytherin dorms to the Entrance Hall if anything happens, as well as closer to the other two already open. Anything else?" He looked around, but no one spoke up. "All right then, I won't deter you any longer.

With the meeting finished, Snape abruptly got up and exited though a passage hidden underneath a large tapestry hanging by the window. Kingsley, Professor Mcgonagall, and Tonks, left the same way I'd come in. Angelina came over to me and I realized it must have been nearly time for our guard duty.

"Bill," Professor Dumbledore stopped me as we were just about to walk out, "could you wait a minute, I need to have a word with you."

I gave a questioning glance to Angelina, and she nodded. "I'll meet you out there in a couple of minutes by the stone gargoyles at the front gate."

"Thanks." I told her gratefully, and turned to Professor Dumbledore as the door closed softly behind her. "What's the matter?"

"It's not right Bill. I agree with Orla, the Death Eaters _knew _they were going to be there. They knew too much about their mission. . .and I can only assume now, that we have a spy in out midst."

I stared at him, dumbfoundedly. "But why are you telling me this? How do you know I'm not the spy?

"Why, are you telling me you are?" He smiled briefly before his expression once again turned serious. "No, you are right to wonder this, of course. But if I remember correctly, you were up in the hospital wing after a stunning spell went wild in a class you were teaching, and hit you instead of the balloon that it was supposed to. You couldn't attend the meeting that day, you weren't even conscious. You didn't know Orla and Mandy had been sent out."

I winced at that memory. The trainees had laughed at me for days; after all, it's fun to embarrass the teachers sometimes. They may have found it funny, but I was furious with myself. What if I had been in battle instead and that had happened? I'd be dead, or worse!

"So, do you have any suspicions as to who it is?" I asked, returning my attention to the matter at hand.

"A few," Professor Dumbledore replied sadly, " Not that I like to admit..."

"Who?"

"Severus Snape, Tonks...Orla herself."

"Tonks...Professor Snape?" I repeated in horror and my eyes widened, "But I thought you had proof that he was on our side! How do you know this?"

"He had me convinced that he was. And I have my contacts outside of Hogwarts." Dumbledore sighed. Then he changed, his eyes looked straight into mine and his voice was filled great urgency. "We'll see. But Bill, that's now beside the point. I know I can trust you now, so I need you to do something _extremely_ important but very dangerous for me. . ."

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Thank-you so much for the reviews everybody, and I hope you stick with me on this. Also a big thanks to anyone who reviews today, it's really going to make up for having to go to school. . .****

Dalamar


	4. The Living Dead

****

Hermione's P.O.V

I knew I was late being taken down to the Assembly Hall, but of course, I'm a slave, it was hardly my fault. Grant, a deaf man, (and I sometimes suspected he wasn't quite allthere in the head if you know what I mean) was the one taking me down there, but even then, it wasn't his fault either. I knew he was tormented by the others loyal to Voldemort because of his disability, and that ridicule sometimes lead to physical violence, and in fact, most of the time he was treated no better then I was. I pitied him, he was nice to me, and sometimes brought me extra food or a blanket when Draco was away on a mission for the Dark Lord.

He hurried me down the last stair case, then across the Entrance Hall into another small passage which finally led into the room where Lord Voldmort had commanded that everyone assemble.

The Assembly Hall always managed to take my breath away, no matter how many times I had been taken there to wait for Draco as he came back from his missions. I knew it had been built by muggles several hundred years ago, with only some magical modifications made to it since Voldemort took up residence. It was easily the size of two Quidditch pitches, and the roof was equally as high as the stands that surround them. The sculpting on the walls and pillars holding up the roof, was gothic, I think, though I never really made it a habit to study architecture. The iron brackets on the walls held torches, and they gave of quite a bit of heat, yet the eerie blue color that they glowed always managed to send shivers down my spine and make me feel cold.

Grant motioned for me to follow him towards the High Table, which was on a platform just below Lord Voldemort's chair at the other end of the hall, and he bound my wrists to the table just to the side of Draco's chair. I sat on a pillow there, resting my head on my arms for I was exhausted; the hourglass in Draco's room had said it was about two a.m. when Grant had come and woken me up. But, though tired, my auror training, however long ago that was, kept me alert and my mind clear; I was curious to see what could drag anyone down here at this time of morning, especially the Lord himself.

I didn't have to wait long, the Assembly room doors opened with a loud bang, and Draco and two other men came striding down the thick blue carpet that lay on the floor. Behind them three more people followed, two Death Eaters, one male and one female, pulling with them a prisoner.

I didn't see how one newly captured prisoner could catch Lord Voldemort's attention, but that was until the struggling man's head twisted towards me, his hair flicking off of his face, and I gasped. Three other slaves that were bound to the same table as me looked at me curiously, but I paid them no heed.

But, he's dead. . . for years. . .oh god, Harry!

"My Lord," Draco knelt, paying his respect to Lord Voldemort, "I have brought you a present."

Harry. . .does he know!

"I should have known you wouldn't disappoint me Draco," Voldmort replied, smiling coldly at him, "though I did have my doubts." He turned to focus his gaze on the prisoner. "And what have we here. . .I thought you were disposed of years ago. . ."

No. . .it's impossible, they can't come back. . .impossible!

"But that is beside the point," Voldemort continued, "I will not have you ruining our plans anymore. You will die a slow death, I can promise you that, and this time, I'll make sure you stay dead."

But the resemblance. . .it can't possibly him. . . !

"Wilson," He commanded the man who had hold of the prisoner's arm, "you and Ber-"

"My Lord!" Someone interrupted loudly, and I turned to see Snape quickly walking though the doors and down the length of the hall, "I'm sorry m'lord, but I beg you, give him to me! I have devised my own ways of torturing him. . ." He trailed off, and Voldmort looked at him with a mix of approving and annoyance. Finally he spoke.

"You have been a loyal servant to me Severus, and so for that, I grant you this favor as a reward for your ever lasting loyalty. But after this, I owe you _nothing_."

"You are most gracious my Lord," Snape replied smoothly, "you will not regret this!"

I looked at his eyes and was disgusted with what I saw in them. It wasn't until later I realized that it was not delight I saw in them, but relief.

With that, Snape took Wilson's place, and he and the women dragged the prisoner back down the hall, and through the doors.

I heard a lot of crashing and banging a couple of moments later, but in my daze I paid it no attention. All I could think of was

But he's dead. . . !

****

Harry's P.O.V

Judging by how quiet it was down here in one of the basements where my cell was, and upstairs, I estimated it to be about three a.m. Even then though, I had not yet managed to get to sleep due to a cold draft. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't manage to completely cover myself with my blanket, and I was constantly trying to regain the feeling in my ears or toes. I had just found a position that kept most of me warm and was starting to drift off, until I jerked back to full consciousness when I heard an enormous crash from somewhere upstairs followed by what sounded like utter chaos.

The noise got louder, heading towards me and I tried to stand up and look between the bars of the cell to see if I could spot anything. I wrestled briefly with the blanket, which during my struggle to cover myself, had managed completely tie me up.

Two shadowed and blurry figures (for I had no glasses) were slowly making their way down the stairs, dragging between them, a third figure. The two figures stepped into the ring of light that the torches on the walls provided, and I recognized them as both Death Eaters; one was Snape and the other was a woman I only knew as Bernice. I couldn't see the other figure, the one they were supporting; the head was down with hair so grimy and clumped with mud I couldn't even begin to guess the color, covering it. I could see now that Lucius was following meekly behind, I knew he was now quite afraid of Snape, now that Snape was looked highly upon by You-Know-Who's, being his favorite Death Eater and most important spy.

The procession paused at the cell beside mine. There were only three cells in this row and Lucius's quarters, then you had to go down to another door at the end to get to the next row. The cell beside mine was the only one empty, the last cell on this row was occupied by a nameless man who hadn't said one coherent word in my four years here.

Lucius produced his set of magical keys, something he always prided himself on since I was put in his care, and the door swung open. Snape and Bernice flung the person in and Bernice sighed in relief.

"He may look skinny, but he's a heavy little bugger." She groaned, rubbing her shoulders. "Anyway, I've got to get back on duty, I trust you can manage from here."

Snape gave her a glare, and she smirked. "Hey, I didn't doubt you. Have fun!" She said, giving a knowing wink before heading back the way she came.

Snape glanced at the man in the cell, before turning to Lucius. "Leave me," he commanded, "I want to have a bit of fun with my new toy. Hey," Snape stopped Lucius just as he was about to leave, "give me the key to his cell first." He demanded.

"But these keys are mine, you can call me when you are done." Lucius replied smoothly.

"I'm not having you listen Malfoy." Snape sneered, "What do you take me for, a fool? Leave the key with me."

"N-" Lucius began to reply, but Snape cut him off angrily.

"Don't you _dare_ forget where your place is here, Lucius. You are no longer important to our Master. You have not the right, nor rank to disagree with me in such trivial matters." He threatened in a low voice. "Don't think I won't tell the Master that you are over stepping your boundaries."

I watched with interested, and, I must admit, slight pleasure as I watched Lucius gaping like a fish, at a loss for words, before taking the key off the ring and handing it over to Snape. He then whirled around and stalked down the hallway, I assumed to go drown out his troubles at the bar they had up in the dinning hall, which he often did.

Snape glanced at the man, and I suddenly realized what he meant by 'having fun'. Not wanted to witness it, the same as I had done with Hermione, I went back and huddled under my blanket, waiting to block out the sounds.

"You don't have to hide Potter." Snape put on an amused, but cold smile. "I don't intend to use him for that purpose. Unlike some of the people around here."

"What do you mean?" I replied loudly, confused, and forgetting the respect I had to show that comes with the burden of being a slave.

Snape glanced around, checking to make sure no one was listening. "You should be thanking me Potter, for I saved his sorry hide. You-Know-Who wanted him executed. Well, not right away of course," he added as an afterthought, "he wanted to torture him first, but when I asked if I could have him, he gave him to me for all my loyal years of service."

"You're a traitor!" I spat, "Professor Dumbledore trusted you!"

"And you're forgetting your role here, _slave_! Ah. . . Harry Potter, the boy who lived. . . if only to be the Dark Lord's sex slave. And keep your voice down," He commanded me quietly," You don't know who could be listening."

"What are you playing at? Why do you care all of a sudden?" I asked surprised at his last comment.

"Oh, that's not for you to know yet Potter. I-" He was cut off by a loud groan, and we both looked over to the man still lying on the floor from where Bernice and Snape had dropped him.

He looked over at me, his eye's stared uncomprehendingly into mine. I stared back, frozen in shock.

The resemblance, but, no. . . Dumbledore said. . . that it was impossible. . . —

"But you're dead!" I finally managed to choke out in horror.

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Thank you to everyone who is reading, I really appreciate it. Please review!

Dalamar


	5. The Flame is Kindled, Then Snuffed

**_ A/N._** This is a response to a challenge by Nagini. It's challenge number one. Details of the challenge will be posted in the last chapter. If I can find them... winces 

**_Disclaimer:_** Everything you recognize belongs to J.k. Rowling. Now if only she'd get that new book out sooner…

_**Extended Summary:**_ Harry was captured by Voldermort four years ago, when he was fifteen. Hermione is now Draco's 'toy'. Ron and Remus are dead. Harry has nearly given up hope of being rescued, when a familiar person is captured and suddenly shows up in Harry's cell….when the impossible happens, will Harry have the detirmination to restart fighting for his freedom…his life?

_**Rating:**_ Rated R for sex (non-graphic), violence, nudity, excessive and slightly graphic torture, death, and harsh language. Also minor slash.

_**Dedicated to:**_ Everyone who has reviewed so far.

* * *

**__**

Harry's P.O.V.

I couldn't believe it. They'd decieved me, told me he was dead. But he couldn't be dead, for I stared into the face of. . . .

"Sirius?" I whispered slowly, and reached out a trembling hand towards him

"Harry?" He managed to croak to me, out of cracked and bloodied lips.

"Oh god. . . what'd they do to you. . . how are you still alive, you were dead…they told me you had been killed. . .years ago!"

"POTTER!" Snape hissed furiously, "Get a hold of your self, we don't have time for silly things like this, there are important plans to be made!"

That finally managed to shake me out of my stupor, and I stared at him with confusion. "What do you mean, 'plans to be made'?" I replied warily, my confusion growing. "What are you playing at Snape?"

"I'm not playing at anything, I'm trying to save your ungrateful hide, Potter." He answered harshly. "But we need to get focused," he paused briefly before adding in a much milder, almost friendly tone, "and I need your help."

"My help?" I jerked back involuntary, for I didn't expect that answer, especially coming from him of all people. "How?"

He glanced around again cautiously, and I knew that he guessed that Lucius was still lurking around somewhere.

"I can help set the plan up, Potter," he replied, "but it's you, that is going to have to carry it out." He gave Sirius a poke in the ribs with his toe, but carried on quickly with what he was saying when he caught my fierce glare. "I can't risk jeopardizing Dumbledore's own plans by getting my cover exposed."

"Dumbledore's plans?" I repeated slowly.

"That's what I said Potter. Did you really think Dumbledore was just going to leave you rotting here for the rest of your miserable life? Now, get over here, we can't risk anyone hearing."

**Bill's P.O.V.**

**__**

I jerked awake suddenly, for I had been dreaming that I was falling down a deep hole, pitch blackness; into oblivion. Do you ever get that, when you feel like your falling down, then all of a sudden you jerk awake? It's quite annoying, especially when I'm only going on an average of four or five hours of sleep a night, and because, other then that, I was having a pleasant sleep.

I sat up slowly, stiffly, and tried to force my eyes to open up, because they were protesting against the harsh light of the morning sun. I glanced over at the clock on the wall and realized that breakfast would be served shortly, so I rubbed at them, trying to chase away the drowsiness, and convince myself that I did not need to go back to sleep.

I ordered myself to get out from under the blessed warmth of the blankets, and then attempted to cross the stone floor to get near the heat of the fire, while trying to avoid stepping on sleeping bodies and grab my robes, boots _and_ wand at the same time.

"Oh god, the floor's like ice in the morn- ugh sorry!" I hastily whispered to the person who's foot I had stumbled over. The only response I received, luckily, was a groan, a weak kick and an effort to pull the blanket over his head.

I dressed quickly, and then played another game of leap frog over to the common room entrance.

All was still quiet in Hogwarts. I must have passed only two people on the way down to breakfast, and both of them, I guessed were on duty, due to the faint traces of a day-old beard growing on their cheeks. I'm not used to such peace and quite around here. . . normally from ten in the morning, to one or two…well, in the morning I suppose, it's usually utter chaos. People coming and going from various missions, bringing back food, refugees or casualties, depending on the task, then there is also the frequent outbreak as a result of one of Peeve's endless practical jokes, the occasional, (okay, perhaps not that occasional) backfiring of a spell or mis-brewed potion, and of course the flurry of activity when a Death Eater is spotted in or near the grounds.

I pushed aside a tapestry on the fourth floor to reveal a passage way I knew appeared on Tuesday's only as a short cut to the Great Hall, and finally arrived in the entrance hall. I stumbled sleepily down the stairs, rubbing my eyes once again and walked into the hall.

There were a few people in there already. Angelina was sitting at a small table by herself, though she looked to me as if she was falling asleep in her bowl of oatmeal. I chuckled to myself quietly and started over towards her.

"Angelina?" I called out, and began to laugh quietly as she jerked awake and hit herself with the spoon.

"Wha…?" She blinked at me sleepily.

"Nothing." I chuckled and grabbed a seat next to her, and reached for a piece of toast.

"Wha ah yo swo ti-ud?" I tried to ask her through a mouthful of toast and strawberry jam.

"Why am I…swo?" She frowned as she tried to decipher what I just said. "So tired?"

I nodded, and took another bite of toast.

"Oh," she sighed, "one of the girls in my dormitory had a rough night last night." She looked down sadly, staring into her half finished oatmeal.

"What happened?" I asked her, "Who did she lose?"

"It's nothing like that," Angelina replied, "she was a new recruit, I think it finally just hit her on how serious this war is. She just came back from her first mission."

"Ah," I said. That was all the explanation Angelina needed to tell me. Almost everyone takes their first mission hard. There's no way to truly prepare a person for what they might see. We try to give them an easy mission, but this is war, there's nothing easy about it. All war causes is pain, and death, horrifying memories. . .and the newbies are lucky if they don't see some of that. Voldemort does unspeakable things to people he catches, just because they don't follow him, because they may have information they may lead to Dumbledore's. . .our demise, and with our destruction the Dark Lord will gain what he wants. Complete power over all things. Total domination.

"Are you Bill?" I heard a small voice behind me say, and I turned around to see a little witch behind me, probably not more then nine years old.

"Yes," I confirmed, and gave her a small smile.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see you," she whispered nervously and scuffed her feet on the stone floor.

I regarded her with mild curiosity; children weren't usually afraid of me!—and nodded.

"All right, thank-you."

She nodded back, and scurried off, probably back to where the rest of the children played. (Or, as I suspected, plotted and schemed ways to create even more chaos, if that was possible. Just two days ago, one of them had somehow managed to charm my dinner plate to bounce up and down. I found it quite amusing, but needless to say Angelina didn't as she found herself wearing my sausages that I had drowned with tomato sauce all over the front of her robes. I actually felt sorry for the children that got caught by the time Angelina was done with them. She had made them wash the dinner dishes. Now, if you could see how many people currently lived in this castle, if you could see all the dishes we go through in a day, you'd feel pretty sorry for them as well. I swear, sometimes I don't get who is worse, the kids or Peeves, I almost think they have a secret competition going on!)

"I'll catch up with you on duty somewhere outside when I'm done?" I asked her and she nodded. "All right, thanks."

I got up wearily and headed over to the great wooden doors of the hall, when suddenly I realized, just when I saw the little girl's retreating back disappear around the corner, that she hadn't told me where Dumbledore was to be found. I sighed, and gazed wistfully at the breakfast table before turning around to headed up to Dumbledore's office, to see if he was lurking around up there.

Five minutes later, I was on the second floor, standing in front of the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to his office, and stared at it hopelessly as I realized I didn't know the password.

_I wonder if I wish hard enough, would it open?_ I mused to myself before glaring angrily at its unmoving face. Needless to say, that didn't work either, and so I tentatively tried a password.

"Lemon Drop?"

Nothing. I tried again.

"Chocolate Éclair?"

The gargoyle didn't budge.

"Turkish Delight?"

Stillness.

"Chocolate Frog?"

The gargoyle stared back at me and then slowly began to move. I stared in mild shock… I had gotten it?

I was about to, metaphorically speaking of course, jump for joy until I realized that the face of Albus Dumbledore stared back at me curiously, and that in fact, was not me who had guessed the correct password.

"Bill?" He asked, and his face darkened suddenly. "What is it, has something happened?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that," I quickly reassured him, "I was told that you wanted to see me."

"Hmm? No…." before I had time to puzzle about that, he continued, "… but seeing as you are here, I would like to ask you something."

He motioned for me to go up the stairs to his study, so I ducked down to go through the entrance.

Once up in his office, I sat myself down in a comfortable arm chair, and the professor settled down on an identical chair on the other side of the desk, opposite me.

"I'd like your opinion Bill." He began, immediately getting to the point, leaning forward slightly over the desk. "And I'm sorry to ask you this so early in the morning, but it seems lately I haven't had much time to just sit down and talk to you."

I nodded in agreement and he continued.

"What do you think our next move against Voldemort should be?"

I blinked in surprise. "You want my opinion on something as important as _that_?" I croaked out. I certainly hadn't been expecting him to ask me that.

"Yes." He answered simply, and peered thoughtfully at me over the top of his spectacles.

"Well. . .um. . .I'm not quite sure sir." I began to reply hesitantly as my mind scrambled for something else to say.

"I'm don't know what I'd do sir," I finally replied, "that's why I'm not in charge of fighting this war. It's just too complicated. Voldemort has maneuvered us so we can't plan an offensive attack, unless we want to submit the prisoners there, like Harry, to a certain death. He's using them like a shield. And you've made it clear that we can't stay the way we are, because, although we are managing to pick off some of his main supporters, he's still managing to get even more of our people. Pretty soon ,he just may have enough so he doesn't have to worry about our retaliation, because we will have too few, or no people left to plan a counterattack with." I sighed slowly, and tugged on my dragons tooth earring, a nervous habit I have developed that probably wasn't doing much good for my ear either.

Dumbledore regarded me patiently and so I carried on. " I suppose it doesn't help our cause that we know we have a spy in our midst and that through all this we still have to try and keep our secret from the muggles."

"A task that's getting harder and harder by the day." Dumbledore finished for me. "Just like the last war, Voldemort doesn't care who he kills, who finds out, just so long as he gets what he wants, to be in control of everything, to be the most powerful wizard ever. You make good points, Bill, they are things I myself would have said. But, you're right, what you were indirectly saying was that we can't just sit here doing nothing, or we _will_ lose."

"But what to do?" He added after a long pause, and I knew from the way he said that, he wasn't expecting an answer from me.

He stood up slowly from his chair, and walked over to the window, staring out of it briefly before sitting back down behind the desk, leaning even closer towards me this time.

"You and your family have proved your loyalty and trustworthiness time and time again, Bill, so I know I can confide in you, and you won't tell a soul." His voice was barely above a whisper, and I had to lean forward even closer and strain my ears to hear what he had to say.

"One of my own contacts tells me that there are only about ten of our people currently being held in Voldemort's main domain. Four of them are Oliver Wood, Hermione, Harry, and Sirius Black."

"Sirius Black?" I interupted him in horror. "But I thought Minister Fudge killed him?"

"That's what everyone was supposed to believe. With everyone thinking he was dead, he could then became one of my top spies… he made the ultimate sacrifice. He gave up his life to go back into hiding. . . he truly did die, in a way." Dumbledore replied sadly.

"But what does this all mean?"

I listened carefully, as Dumbledore explained everything to me, and what he planned to do, long into the morning, and suddenly, I began to feel a spark of hope rekindling.

****

Later….

Dumbledore and I were still in deep conversation, when all of a sudden there came the sound of loud voices and footsteps slapping on stone from the room beneath us.

I caught his gaze, and simultaneously, in silent agreement, we both quickly moved towards the door. Exiting through the gargoyle's entrance, we were met with a porky, red faced, wizard, of about seventeen whose name, I remembered vaguely, was Ethan.

"What is it?" Dumbledore pressed.

"P..pr…professor!" he puffed. "Th…there, no, a…I-"

"Slow down a minute, take a deep breath and organize yourself." The professor ordered him calmly.

Ethan paused only briefly before rushing right back into what he was saying. I smiled at his youthful impatience, then regarded myself in what must have been mock horror, as I realized how old _I_ must be getting if I thought of _him_ as youthful.

"Professor! Angelina and Marcel have been found murdered on the school grounds!"

That wiped the smile off my face.

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I'm so sorry this took so long to get out, I've had massive writer's block, haven't been home among some of the excuses. I really hope you liked this chapter, I made it a little longer then usual, hopefully it'll make up for the long delay. I'd like to thank everyone for reading, and I hope you'll continue to stick with me through this.

**Dalamar**


	6. Help from Unlikely People

**_Disclaimer:_** Everything you recognize belongs to J.k. Rowling. The plot is of my own, so please do not plagiarize it. Orla, as I have said, is also one of J.K. Rowling's own characters.

**_Extended Summary:_** Harry was captured by Voldemort four years ago, when he was fifteen. Hermione is now Draco's 'toy'. Ron and Remus are dead. Harry has nearly given up hope of being rescued, when a familiar person is captured and suddenly shows up in Harry's cell….when the impossible happens, will Harry have the determination to restart fighting for his freedom…his life?

_**Dedicated to**_: To **_Iggie_**, who unknowingly gave me the personality of the picture in this next part, thanks to the review she left.

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**_Quick Note!- _**Things in italics is the conversation between Snape and Harry last chapter. You'll know when I've switched from Snape telling Harry something, to Harry thinking.

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Chapter 6

Harry's P.O.V

_'Now listen carefully Harry, because what I'm telling you is going to be very important. It may just give you your freedom. This may be our only chance; our last chance, for Voldemort will not be around that night, for the first time in years.'_

_'Why not?'_

_'Nevermind that. I will be sending someone down with some supplies that I think you'll need; you must come up with some way that will delay them without arousing any suspicions.'_

I eyed both doors at either end of the hall carefully, from the corner of my cell, for Snape had said a servant girl would be coming down. Sirius, I guessed, was half-unconscious, muttering and every so often, flailing about. Snape had told me he had a fever caused by an infection from the wounds that had been inflicted on him when he had been captured. He hadn't said anything coherent since recognising me earlier, which Snape said was a miracle on its own. The sooner we got him out of here, the better.

Wrapped under my blanket, I pretended to be asleep as I normally would have been, so as not to arouse the suspicions of Lucius, who sat on a chair only a few feet away sound asleep. Giving up sleeping in a bed at night. . .now that shows that he takes his guard duty very seriously. But then again, it's all he has now.

A lithe girl, wearing torn robes of brown that marked her as one who worked as a servant came slipping silently down the stairs. She headed straight for Lucius, head bowed as she was taught, and spoke quietly to him. He stretched then sighed in annoyance, got up and shuffled over to his office. He disappeared for a few moments and then came back out and handed her the rubbish bin.

"Now get out of my sight!" He spat angrily after her, for she had indeed woken him up.

She fled, coming my way, and I prepared myself. Just as she was running by, I stuck out my foot, and she, and the rubbish, went flying. She was prepared however, and she managed to discreetly toss me a package from her robes, which I quickly concealed under Sirius's blanket.

'You'll have to make some of your own sacrifices.'

'Sacrifices?'

'You may get beaten. Just take it in stride, no fighting back, j ust remember what you're going to gain by the end of tonight... we need you conscious.'

I braced myself as Lucius stormed over, and prayed that he hadn't seen the package the girl threw me. He didn't even bother to open the cell, he simply picked me up by the neck of my robes, and gave me a swift punch in the face. My head swam, stars danced in front of my eyes, and I could recognize the sharp, coppery taste of blood in my mouth from where I must have bitten myself as my head whipped back. He let go and I crumpled awkwardly to the floor, my legs bent stiffly under me. I didn't pay any attention to that though, I was just thankful that I was conscious.

'I'll handle Lucius, just trust your instincts and you'll know when it'll be safe. Don't do anything to make him suspicious!'

From the floor of the cell, I watched with anticipation as Lucius finished off a third bottle of Fire Whiskey, and began to slowly pass out. His title of belonging in You-Know-Who's most inner circle been stripped of him, his son rising to take his place, and the public humiliation that followed were all of what led up to his alcoholic problems. Lucius was drunk every night, I knew, but this time, Snape had added a little potion of his to make it come quicker, and last a little longer.

'Remember, timing is crucial.'

Lucius had been out for a good hour now, and I watched the hourglass on the table by Lucius' feet like a hawk. When it was five minutes to the time Snape had instructed me to break Sirius and myself out, I reached back into Sirius's cell, and retrieved the package that the girl had dropped.

My eyes widened, and I wasted precious time just staring at the items Snape had packed.

A bar of Honeydukes chocolate.

My glasses.

And my wand.

I put on my glasses and opened up the chocolate immediately- god I was hungry!- and crammed a big piece into my mouth. I slipped the rest of it into the pocket of my robes and then picked up my wand, gazing at it lovingly, feeling the familiar smooth, slightly worn wood under my fingers. It all hit me then. . .I was getting out! _We_ were getting out, it wasn't just some crazy dream. . .with my wand, I felt capable of doing anything; I _was_ capable of doing anything.

I slipped out from under the blanket, and slowly walked over to the cell door. I stared at it briefly, before raising my wand –oh how I'd love to savor that moment!- and cried, "ALOHOMORA!"

Nothing happened.

I stared at it in shock, and my heart ached. . . _No! This can't happen to us. . .it's not fair, we're so close. . ._

'Remember Harry, you haven't performed any magic for years. It may not work for you as easily as it used to, not so natural as you remember it. Stop and focus, you **are** capable of doing this simple spell, if you try hard enough.'

'Why are you doing this?'

'Why are you asking stupid questions when we'rerisking my neck to try to figure out how to save your pathetic life? You'd better not be this distracted when you break out!'

I gave a small smile. . .Snape had planned of everything. I did what he advised me to, I took a deep breath, and attempted to once again focus my mind on unlocking the cell door.

"ALOHOMORA!"

I heard a satisfying click resound from the lock, and with a huge grin stretching from ear to ear, I crept over to Sirius's cell. He was still shivering under his blanket, murmuring incoherently to himself. Snape had tried to do the best he could, but as he told me, (quite snappishly) that he was no healer.

'You're going to have to carry the twit the whole way, I can't do more to help there, it'll be bordering suicidal for all of us if I try to help you anymore in the castle.'

"ALOHOMORA!" I commanded again, and managed on the first time to get the cell to unlock. I hurried over to Sirius, and stared briefly at him, before gently grabbing his arm, and struggling to hoist him up, trying to get his knees to lock under him, so I wouldn't have to support as much weight.

'Go right, and down the corridor, up two flights of stairs and then across the hall. There shouldn't be anyone there that late at night, if you've left at the right time you should have just missed the night sentry. But be quiet!'

I half carried- half dragged him down the corridor, and gazed at the stairs in dismay. I hadn't been mistreated as much as the others here, my body was fairly intact, but I still felt fairly weak, from lack of food among reasons. I chewed on my lip nervously, as I could feel my knees threatening to give way already.

I struggled up one step, trying to find my balance while managing to avoid tripping over Sirius's body. He'd calmed down a little, still shivering and muttering to himself but he'd stopped flailing about, to my relief. Slowly I struggled to get us up the two flights of stairs, and when I finally reached the top I could feel sweat dripping down my face, my calves and thighs burning, my breathing was labored and I felt dizzy. I swayed about for a moment, trying to get my head to clear so I could move and nearly fell back down the stairs. I quickly decided to move away before the muscles in my legs begin to stiffen, and become sore from all the work they were doing that they were not conditioned to do.

I heard footsteps on the marble floor and ducked as quickly as I could while carrying Sirius into another stairway. Watching from the corner, I saw the guard treading wearily across the floor. His wand was lit, but hanging limply by his side. He only paused for a few seconds in the Hall, and then exited into a doorway underneath the grand staircase located in the middle of the room. I waited a few moments to be sure he was actually gone, and then proceeded to drag both myself and Sirius across the room.

'Stand in the middle of the main hall and face the main staircase. If you look closely you should see a large picture of an old man wearing a dark indigo top hat, visible on the far wall. Go towards the picture and pull it away from the wall. It'll reveal a passage way which will lead into the kitchens. You don't have to worry about the people there, they are all on your side and will be aware that you are coming. Find the girl that brought you the package, she'll take you to the door leading out of the castle.'

Facing the main stairs like I was instructed, I glanced hurriedly around, feeling very exposed in the hall. It was dark, I had broken myself and Sirius out at two-fifteen in the early morning, ten minutes before the guard change. I could see the presence of a thick cluster of trees outside the window, but even their branches did little to stop the moon light from streaming in the window, illuminating my presence in the grand room. I had mixed feelings towards the moon tonight, for it would help me find this picture, but it would also help the guards find me.

My shadow stretched out along the floor, making me look like some freakishly tall and thin giant, and seemed to point the way as I looked up and found the picture I was looking for just above my shadow's head. I sighed softly, and threw a quick glance at Sirius' head lolling over my shoulder, before walking towards the picture. _How could I not have found the picture sooner_, I wondered wryly,_ he was snoring louder then Ron does._

_Did._

I fumbled clumsily around to find the catch that kept it secured to the wall, cursing the scrabbling noises I made, when all of a sudden the picture woke up.

"I say, old chap, you look a bit out of place don't you!" The man bellowed at me with a friendly grin. "Going to have a quick peek at the ladies are we?"

"AH!" I yelped in surprise, jumping back and causing my legs to get tangled up with Sirius' whose were dragging on the ground. Seated on the floor, I slowly gazed up at the picture with wide eyes. He stared back at me with a astonished look on his face, and I glanced away, my eyes darted around nervously into all the nooks and crevices of the large hall, while feverantly hoping the picture hadn't brought any unwanted attention down here.

"Why, whatever did you do that for?" He guffawed loudly.

"Please," I hissed to the man urgently, "be quiet, or you'll bring everyone down here!"

"Ah…" The picture nodded to me knowingly, giving me a roguish wink. I winced; he _still_ wasn't any quieter. "Got a girlfriend down there have you. I see. . . mum's the word and all that."

"Oh?" He started in surprise, having just noticed Sirius. "I say, he doesn't look to good does he? You know, you had better get him to a healer. He looks a bit pale and what not."

I groaned in frustration as I picked myself and Sirius up and resumed my search for the latch.

"It's not over there," the picture supplied helpfully, and then looked around with what I could only guess was bewilderment as his hat fell down over his eyes. "Hallo. . . I say, be a sport and turn the lights back on would you? I don't half much like it in the dark."

I sighed, feeling up and down the back of the picture frame still trying to focus on finding the _bloody _latch, "It's your hat sir, it's over your eyes."

"My cat? I don't have a cat, don't be ridiculous. . .dreadful things make me sneeze. And what would a cat be doing on my pies?" The hat retorted in a muffled voice.

I blinked. "Not your cat, your HAT!" I whispered to him as loud as I dared.

"I've already told you, I don't have a cat! Are you deaf?"

"Ah ha!" I cried in achievement, ignoring the picture frame, as I felt the latch give way. I swung open the portrait, revealing yet another set of stairs, going down this time to my relief. I adjusted Sirius more comfortably on my shoulders and then stepped down, wincing as I heard Sirius' feet thud repeatedly on the stairs. I just closed the portrait, and had started down the stairs, when I heard a loud voice, the portrait, (who still hadn't noticed I had disappeared).

"I say, my dear boy, it was my hat all this time, didn't you see? Children these days…"

I crept as quietly as I could down the stairs, towards the kitchen, the only sound was Sirius's feet hitting the each step. The passage way smelled horrible, I could guess this was only used for the servants because I concluded any of You-Know-Who's followers would simply turn their noses up; they've gotten too high and mighty with all the power they have seemed to have been given, which also causes many problems between them. The hallway stank of mildew, was damp, and had a cold winter draft blowing down it from somewhere, which combined with the dampness, chilled me to my bones.

I reached the door, and struggling to keep supporting Sirius, I grabbed the handle and pushed it open. A warm crackling fire welcomed me, and even though it was probably about two thirty in the morning by now, there were still a couple of the servant girls rushing around.

One of them saw me struggling, and hurried over to help me. I recognized her to be the one who had helped me earlier.

"Yeh're late, 'Arry Potter." She whispered urgently, as she grabbed Sirius's other arm and together we rushed over to the other door leading outside.

"It's not exactly my fault, I was delayed by the picture frame." I hissed indignantly, and she giggled at me.

"Oh, the Major? You should'av just ignored 'im, if yeh did 'e wouldn't have started babbling ta yeh."

"I wish someone had told me that sooner." I grumbled.

"Oh, 'e's an old sweet'eart really. A bit crazy though…"

"I noticed." I replied sarcastically, and she giggled.

We went down a long corridor, sparely lit with torches in silence until she asked, "So what are yeh planning on doing once yeh get out of the grounds?"

" I dunno." I replied, with a worrid grin. "I'm hoping someone has figured that out for me."

She gave me a confused look, so I decided to change the subject. "What's your name?"

"Dell. Dell Ondrea."

"How long have you been here? How did you get caught?"

"Believe it or not, I got caught 'ere only four months ago when I was on a mission for Dumbledore."

"A mission for Dumbledore?" I replied slowly. . .Professor Dumbledore was using children on missions?

She nodded. "Didn't let that stop me though, I'av still been a spy for Dumbledore ever since. Snape is one of Dumbledore's people, I tell 'im any information I, uh. . .'appen to over 'ear and 'elp 'im out when ever I'm able. Most of the other girls are too afraid ta do anyfing, but Snape's forced to trust me now, I can give 'im a lot of useful information, and I know if I continue ta help him, one day it'll help us all be rescued.

"That's brave of you." I commented. I knew the consequences of disobeying, and Dell wasn't just disobeying, she would have been seen as a traitor, even though she wasn't here of her own choice.

"Voldemort's started this war, if we want it ta be over, we got ta be brave." Was all she said.

She led me down a maze of corridors and then helped me carry Sirius up another flight of stairs. Soon we were at a large wooden door and I could feel a cold draft emanating from.

"Yeh're going out there in _that_?" She protested loudly as she suddenly focused on the thin robes I was wearing, and my bare feet. "Don't be ridiculous! Yeh'll freeze afore yeh can even get ta the edge of the grounds! 'Ang on, I'll go get yeh summat else ta wear."

She hurried back down the stairs and returned only moments later with a thick woolen travelling cloak, a pair of warm-looking boots and a pair of equally warm-looking gloves.

"These are mine," she told me, and she held Sirius while I put them on. "They'll be a bit short, but it's better then nufing. And don't yeh bother coming back ta return 'em either!" She called out jokingly as I ventured out into the thin sheet of snow covering the ground. I chuckled to myself.

'I'll handle the outside guards as well-'

'How? And what about the dementors?'

'For once in your life Harry, just trust me , and you shouldn't have to worry about any of them as long as you are on time. I'll say it again Harry, timing is of the essence. Once you leave the castle, go straight through the woods. There will be nothing able to harm you in there. Stay alert! Once you enter the woods, look for a worn path—it should be visible under the little bit of snow. That should lead you to the edge of the grounds. There are thick bushes there; thorn bushes. Use the Reductor curse if you can managed it, otherwise you are just going to have to tough it out.'

'Hang on! Why should I trust you? You killed Ron!'

'I did no such thing. Are you sure you really saw what you saw?'

I stumbled slowly through the trees, now after all those sets of stairs about ready to collapse. I could feel the cold on my face even more now, despite, or maybe perhaps because of the sweat that was still streaming off my face and down my neck. My head was also starting to pound now, thanks to the punch I had received earlier from Lucius.

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Ssstrange. . .

I glanced around quickly as I heard the voice. "Who's there?" I hissed quietly into the darkness.

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My dear boy. . .where ever are you goooing?

I looked down as I felt something wrap itself around my leg. I was shocked to find a snake there, slowly coiling itself around my ankle, using my leg to climb up, and then wrapping itself around my waist like a belt, bringing its head eye level with me.

"I'm getting out of here." I replied to it, not realizing I had automatically switched to parseltongue.

**But hoooow? **The snake pressed. I tried to ignore the absurbity of the conversation

"I'm not quite sure," I replied, gazing passed snake nervously, "I'm looking for the border of the grounds."

The snake hissed loudly of a sudden, and I looked at it nervously, until I realized. . .it was laughing at me!

"What?" I protested.

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**_The booorder, boooy? Well, if you're loooooking for that, you're gooooing the wrong way!_** The snake gave another loud hiss. **_Keep gooooing the way yooou are, and you'll find the guardssss. Not that theeeey would give you many problemsss. Theeeey sssseem to be ssssleeping._**

"Well, where do I go then?" I asked it cautiously.

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**_To yooour right_**, the snake replied simply, and before I could say or do anything to stop him, he slithered back down and away out of sight.

I shuffled along slowly in the direction the snake had pointed me, for what seemed like hours. There was no sound, nothing apart from my feet crunching over the meager layer of snow that had managed to stay on the ground and the leaves from the trees still buried underneath it. I struggled ahead, glancing up every so often, until to my relief, I saw the rows of thorn bushes that Snape had mentioned looming up in front of me.

When I finally reached it, I set Sirius gently on the ground, before suddenly, I froze. I heard faint rustling sounds getting louder by the second, coming from the bushes. It was too late for me to even bother trying to hide myself and Sirius, so I raised my wand, and tried not to look how I feltas if I could keel over at any second.

A young girl scrambled out, and dusted the snow and leaves off of herself, before she noticed me. She stared at me in horror, (I suppose I did look a sight) but it then became apparent that she knew me, knew I wasn't supposed to be running around You-Know-Who's castle grounds at three in the morning, and wasn't here to help me.

"Harry Pot…" she trailed off, "what are you doing out here! Ruin myYou're not supposed to get out!"

My eyes widened.

And then they managed to widen some more as she reached into her pocket, pulled out her wand and aimed it at me threateningly.

"Stupefy!" She yelled, and I tried to dodge it, tripping over Sirius in the process and landing hard on the ground. I could feel the curse brushing right over my head.

She advanced on me, and I tried to back up when she suddenly stopped for no reason. I glanced at her curiously and then I heard a strangely familiar male voice yell out two consecutive curses right behind me.

"Stupefy! Accio wand!"

I glanced around hastily, and found myself staring into the knee caps of a robed figure. The first spell the managed to dodge as I had, but the second caught her off guard and her wand flew straight into his hand.

She stared at her empty hand amazement and then back at the figure.

"Who are you?" She demanded loudly, determined not to let her fear show. "What do you think you are you doing? It's Harry Potter! He's escaped you fool, give me back my wand so we can catch him for the Master!"

"My girl," the figure replied in a low voice, "it's you who are the fool. Do you really think you could catch the famous Harry Potter? The one who has thwarted our Master time and time again? Even after so many years, even when he is like this. . .you are no match for him."

"Oh? I was trained by Dumbledore's finest. . .I don't suppose you're a match for him?" She laughed nervously.

"But of course." The figure replied simply, and I could tell from his voice that he was smiling. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The spell took her by surprise, and she was suddenly flung upside down, her robes fell down covering her face as she struggled to get free. Pausing a few seconds, the figure muttered and dropped his wand, evidently causing the spell to break as she fell to the ground with a resounding thump.

"And you say you were trained by one of Dumbledore's _amazing_ followers? You're lucky you're actually on our side, or you wouldn't have lasted this long." He laughed at her as she got up, trying to keep what pride she had left. The figure then sighed. "I sadly don't have time to deal with the likes of you. . .Stupefy!"

I watched as the girl crumpled to the ground like a load of bricks.

The robes ruffled as the figure looked at me, though I still couldn't see his face.

"Well, well, well, _Harry_ _Potter_, what **_are_** we going to do with you?" He sneered and raised his wand once again…

'But what ever you do; whatever happens, you cannot get caught. If you are , and are tortured so they can find information on how you escaped. . .if you reveal that I am one of Dumbledore's spies, then we won't have a single hope of ever winning this war. You can't let that happen. Remember that Harry, for it is the most important thing I'm going to say to you. You must.not.get.caught.'

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**Fairytale:** You don't understand the whole Snape-spy thing? Mm, neither do I. Sadly I'm the author too. I'm just praying that I'm not writing myself into a corner here.

**Googlepuss:** Thanks for finding this. grins Hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

**Iggie:** Hope this is a bit sooner for you. I even have four pages of the next chapter done. Hopefully this all ties together, because I'm as clueless as the next person as how it's going to end…

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(Long) Author's note:

And yet another man who wants to kill Harry…who do you think he is?

Yet another chapter, easily the longest one so far! (nearly ten pages) I'm almost positive this is going to be the longest, so please don't be disappointed with the length of the next chapter.

Well, I'm guessing. . .only two or three chapters to the end. Which is quite a bit considering this was only going to be a three chaptered ficlet in the first place.

Next chapter to be up shortly, I hope this little cliffie isn't as bad as the last. pauses, then muses to self 'Course, I still haven't resolved the last have I? Just wait and see, and hopefully, you won't be disappointed. Please review, especially all you silent folk, it won't kill you. Also, in your reviews would you please include any questions you have? Just so I make sure I don't miss answering them in further chapters.

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Dalamar


	7. Look Where Betrayel Gets You

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PLEASE READ THE FOLLOWING NOTE!

I'd like to thank everyone who has sent me reviews and e-mails badgering me to get this next part up. I apologize greatly for the long delay, I've been on vacation without access to a computer, have just finished exams, and been ill, among some of the excuses. Just a reminder that I have every intention of finishing this story, so bare with me here on the long and infrequent updates. I WILL FINISH! I greatly appreciate every single review you've so kindly given, especially those people that have been reviewing since the beginning. You know who you all are.

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Dalamar

**Disclaimer:** Everything you recognize belongs to J.k. Rowling. The plot is of my own, so please do not plagiarize it. Orla, as I have said, is also one of J.K. Rowlings own characters.

**Extended Summary**: Harry was captured by Voldemort four years ago, when he was fifteen. Hermione is now Draco's 'toy'. Ron and Remus are dead. Harry has nearly given up hope of being rescued, when a familiar person is captured and suddenly shows up in Harry's cell….when the impossible happens, will Harry have the determination to restart fighting for his freedom…his life?

Rating: R

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**Chapter 7** **__**

Harry's P.O.V

The figure raised his wand, as if in slow motion. I never took my eyes off of it, until I saw him level at me—wait! No, he didn't! He muttered, "_Reducto," _at the bushes, causing a gaping hole to be created in the middle of the row before stuffing the wand back into a pocket, still easy to access.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"I never thought I'd say this to the likes of you, but... a friend, believe it or not." He snorted and his head turned to look down at Sirius. He sighed suddenly. "Well, I suppose we'd better get you back to Hogwarts then, hadn't we?" He bent down and grabbed one of Sirius' arms, easily hoisting him up over his shoulder. "Can you walk all right?"

I stared at him blankly for a moment, the sudden change of events leaving me speechless, until I quickly realized he was still waiting for an answer. "Uh…yeah, I can…walk…"

Without acknowledging my answer, he turned around and proceeded to climb through the path he'd created in the bushes, with Sirius still slung over on his back. I hesitated, and then quickly scrambled up and jogged to catch up to him, as I realized that for the moment, he seemed like he was trying to help us.

"So, Potter. . .how did you manage to escape? I mean, I presume you must have had some help. . .but why wait until now?"

I gazed at him curiously out of the corner of my eye. "You mean. . .you weren't sent here to help me?"

"Why would you think that?" He replied nonchalantly. He paused a moment before saying sharply, "You didn't answer me, how did you get out?"

"I had some help," was all I confirmed, beginning to grow suspicious of him. "They told me that this was the night to do it, because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had left the castle."

We walked in silence, I glanced at him discreetly every couple of minutes to see if I could see any of his face. We wandered around in the woods for what seemed ages, I only hoped he knew where he was actually going. I soon forgot about trying to get a glimpse of his face, and began concentrating on forcing one foot to go in front of the other. I saw the sun begin to rise on my left, between the trees, and could feel the early morning rays that had made it through the branches on my face and arms.

I could feel my eyes slowly begin to droop shut. . .and that's when I tripped over the tree root. I felt my head slamming on the hard ground and then everything was quickly replaced by blackness. . .

"Where did you find him?" I heard faint voices above me say.

"He was wandering around the borders of Voldemort's manor grounds. I shadowed him for a bit, without him noticing, to see what he was up to, but I stepped in as a girl confronted him. She claims to have been trained here at Hogwarts and recently too."

"Then what was she doing attacking Harry?"

"I believe we may have found your spy, Sir."

"Oh, yes of course. . .she didn't get a look at your face did she? Because if she somehow managed to get word to Voldemort. . ."

"No, I had my hood pulled over my face. . .. Potter doesn't even know who I am."

"Well, we should perhaps try to keep it that way for now." There was a pause, "Should you not be going? We don't want Voldemort getting suspicion. After all, you are supposed to be one of the members of his elite and most trusted group."

"He's not there at the moment. . .in fact to tell you the truth, I'm worried. I don't know where he went. But you're right Professor, I'd better go."

"Be careful, remember to trust your instincts!"

"Always, Sir."

I let out an involuntary groan all of a sudden as something caused the bed to shake, making my already pounding head feel like it was being repeatedly hit with an overly excited bludger.

"Harry? _Harry?_ Are you awake?"

I slowly forced one of my eyes open, wincing against the brightness of the light. I swallowed, trying to moisten my throat before I tried to speak, my mouth not wanting to cooperate. "Hwers Sarus?"

"Pardon me?"

"Where's Sirius…is he…all right? I muttered thickly, before I finally realized who I was talking to. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes. . .it's me, Harry. Sirius is fine, don't worry about him now, concentrate on getting yourself well. Madame Pomfry has tended to him, and he is currently sleeping his fever off now." Dumbledore replied calmly, a relieved smile on his face. He then grew serious. "How did you manage to get out Harry?"

"I'm not quite exactly sure sir. I had a lot of help." I replied slowly, still trying to focus on getting my mouth to form coherent words. I smiled hesitantly, and glanced around the Hospital Wing in amazement. "I'm really. . .back?"

The professor gave a small chuckle. "Yes Harry, you're really back. And it's wonderful to see you're actually all right."

"All right?" I replied, and massaged my pounding temples gently, "I sure don't feel all right. My head is killing me."

"Well, from what my contact says, you went down pretty hard and hit your head on a tree stump. Though, that doesn't account for your black eye, or your arm. What happened there?"

"Oh," I answered, and looked down, "Lucius Malfoy."

"I see." He gazed at me thoughtfully. "Harry, how _did_ you get away?"

I stared at him curiously. "Professor Snape helped me sir. He said it was part of your plans."

"Snape!" Dumbledore exclaimed in astonishment. "What. . .is he up to?"

"What do you mean professor?"

There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence.

"We had planned to get you out Harry, of course, but we didn't know how. We were going to wait until the end. The final battle, which is inevitably going to be soon. But I didn't tell Serveus this…how did he know? But if he freed you, does that mean I was wrong; he is still on our side?" Dumbledore mused over the last bit himself.

"What do you mean Professor? You said years ago that you were positive Professor Snape was on our side. . .you mean you were wrong?"

"I'm not quite sure Harry," He replied gravely, "but I think it's time we all sat down for a talk." He got up from the chair he had been resting in and regarded me for a moment. "You try and get some more sleep, when you next wake up, Sirius should be also awake, and we can talk some more, in my office and you can hear everything."

He smiled at me before I quickly fell back into a blissful sleep. My first dreamless sleep in years.

**__**

Bill's P.O.V.

I was slumped over the dining room table, accompanied by Dennis, Sarah, and a man by the name of Robert who was just a year older then me. I don't know where Orla had disappeared to, I assumed she wanted to be alone, for she too was quite close to Angelina. I hadn't seen her since Angelina and Marcel's funeral that had been yesterday, two days after her—their death's. And still no one had a clue on how they had been murdered. Dennis was involved in a half-hearted attempt of a chess game with Robert; he couldn't even be bothered to argue with his pieces when then ignored him.

I felt like I was in a horrible dream. I couldn't believe Angelina had been killed. . .we were close. We weren't dating or anything like that, she was too young for my taste, but we understood each other. Most of my family had been killed, and so had hers. We were assigned to teach a Strategy Application course with each other, and Dumbledore had like the way we had worked together. We'd been partners ever since. And now she was just. . .gone. She wouldn't be coming down to breakfast, or helping me baby-sit the young orphans, or teasing me about my earring. I couldn't sit with her late at night, when neither of us could sleep, not necessarily talking, but simply comfortable in each others' presence as true friends are.

Not even Professor Dumbledore's 'exciting news' could give me a reason to cheer up.

Ever since Dumbledore had told me the news, we had all gone in full research mode. Hundreds of us spent hours in the library, searching for a potion, charm or spell, some way the Voldemort could be defeated. We already had a plan to defeat his main defenses, we had a way to get close to him. . .but not to truly defeat him. And of course we had to save Harry first; I knew Professor Dumbledore would never forgive himself if he betrayed Harry's parents by not saving their son if he had the chance.

So let me tell you I was surprised (and a bit annoyed) when an owl came zooming in for a quick landing, flying right into the chess board sending the pieces everywhere just to deliver me a letter.

****

**_Bill_**, the message said,

****

I have had some great news, and two rather unexpected visitors. Will you please gather the rest of the crowdArabella, Snape, Mundungus, Orla, Minerva and your fatherand meet in the hospital wing in twenty minutes.

Albus

I stared at the note in astonishment, before getting up slowly from the table, muttering a quick good bye and hurrying off to find the others.

Harry's P.O.V

I stared nervously around the hospital wing in anticipation while we waited for everyone that Professor had asked that come. At long last the hospital wing's doors opened, and in filed a crowd of people. A couple of them I didn't recognize, but obviously they all recognized me as all mouths dropped open.

"H…Harry?" Mr. Weasly managed to spit out finally. The others just gaped, as if they oculdn't believe their eyes.

"Arthur, Minerva. . .everyone please sit down." Dumbledore guided them gently and conjured up chairs for them all.

"As you can see Harry is safe now; it seems we didn't have to put the plan into motion because Serverus seems to have an agenda of his own." Dumbledore began, before Professor McGonagall interrupted him quickly.

"What do you mean, Albus?"

"Snape rescued Harry. We didn't plan it this way, in fact, he shouldn't have known about the plan since he wasn't at the last meeting we had, unless one of you told him about it." Everyone shook their heads, puzzled.

"Speaking of which, where is Serverus. . .and Orla?" Dumbledore glanced at Bill, puzzled.

"I have no idea where Orla is but Snape said he'd be a bit la-" Bill began before the door swung open once again and in walked Snape.

"Severus," Dumbledore welcomed him warmly, "we were just talking about you."

"I see." Was all he said, and he regarded everyone warily. He then spotted me, and I nearly fainted away in shock as he said, "I'm glad to see you made it out all right Potter."

"That's what we're here to talk about Severus," Dumbledore started, "why did you not tell us your plans?"

"Why have you not told me yours?" Snape countered. "I suppose you thought I was the spy?"

"I must regretfully admit it did, my old friend. But I'll ask again, why did you not tell me?"

"Because Headmaster, no matter how careful we were, the spy always managed to discover what our next move would be no matter how secret these meetings were. I concluded that it be best if I act on my own accord, without telling anybody. Voldermort has grown too dependent on his spies to the extent that his defenses have grown weak. I thought with a bit of help, even for someone as weak as Harry, it'd be easy for him to escape relatively unharmed."

"But I nearly didn't escape," I spoke up suddenly, "A girl tried to stop me, said she had been trained by 'Dumbledore's best' but then contradicted that by her saying she worked for You-know-who."

"It's Voldemort, Harry," The Professor spoke up absently, "you aren't his prisoner anymore."

I just shuddered at that. I was more then his prisoner, but that they should never know; _would _never know. It was just too embarrassing; too humiliating. I could only hope Snape would keep his mouth shut, for he would everything that had happened to me in those four long years.

"What did the girl look like Harry?" Professor McGongall questioned me, but I shook my head in defeat.

"I don't know professor, I didn't really notice. She was young, uh. . .brown hair possibly? I really can't remember."

"How did you get away?" spoke up someone else, a man that I didn't recognize.

"I had some help. . .a girl named Dell Ondrea who said she still was a spy for you Professor, and a man . . .he said he worked for You-Know... Vol-de-mort as well, but he helped me, I don't know why!"

"Don't worry about that Harry." I guess I must have sounded like I was bordering on hysterical, for Dumbledore suddenly jumped into the conversation again. He paused briefly, processing what I just said. "Dell's working for me? She was caught a couple of months ago, if my memory serves me correctly. She couldn't possibly be still working for me, could she?"

"She is Headmaster," Snape corrected him. "Through me. She found out one day, and I'm lucky it was only her, that I was still working for you. She's a kitchen servant, they go all over the castle delivering meals and she hears plenty. She passes it on to me, in fact, that's where a lot of my information has come from these few months."

"And you didn't tell me?" Dumbledore shot him a disapproving glare.

Snape didn't reply.

There came loud screams from outside, and everyone reacted, simultaneously with drawing their wands. Dumbledore jumped up and hurried over to the doorway. He paused there for a few seconds, apparently talking to someone earnestly, and I saw his face darken. After a few moments he came back over and addressed us gravely.

"There's been another attack on the grounds." Was all he said before hurrying wordlessly out of the room.

The others glanced about in dismay, before hurrying after him. I grabbed Bill by the arm and spun him around to face me.

"I'm coming too."

He started to disagree, but then quickly thought twice. Grabbing a set of robes that had, I assumed, been left for me at the side of the bed, I flung them on over the pajama's I was wearing, slipped on some boots, and trailed after Bill out of the room.

The walk down to the grounds was brief, and I gazed around the familiar hallways of Hogwart's in amazement, nearly forgetting that someone had just been murdered. It was felt like a dream come to true to be home finally. We walked past the Gryffindor Commen room, and the fat lady gasped in shock when she saw me. There grew loud voices, and what seemed like shadows as the pictures flitted ahead of us, eager to gossip about the good news.

We soon caught up to where Professor Dumbledore and the others had gathered, surrounding the body. I caught a glance as Mr. Weasly moved backwards and I gasped loudly.

"What is it Harry?" Dumbledore whirled around sharply to face me.

"That's her." I whispered slowly.

"What?" Professor McGonagall spun around and gave me a horrified look.

"That's her. . .the one who tried to attack me just before I escaped from You-Know-Who."

No one bothered to correct me this time. The only thing I heard was silence, until that was broken by Bill sadly whispering, nearly groaning one sentence:

"How could you. . .Orla. . ."

* * *

I'd like to read about any questions you're wondering about the story, it helps me so I make sure I don't forget to leave anything unanswered at the end of the story. Please continue to review!

Let me know if you'd like to be e-mailed when I update.

****

Dalamar


	8. The Dragon's Story

**_Disclaimer:_** Harry Potter and everything else related to it are all works of J.K. Rowling. The only thing belonging to me is the sadistic and twisted plot, which I am making the characters experience. 

**_Dedicated to_**: My fantastic cousin David.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**Harry's P.O.V**

There was a rustling in the bushes behind me which caused everybody to jump around and raise their wands defensively again. A tall figure stepped out, hood pulled over its face and I somehow realised it to be same person that had saved me earlier. He strode over towards the girl, Orla, bending down to check for a pulse and ignoring everybody as they stumbled back away from him a few paces.

"That's your spy Professor." He said simply, turning towards Dumbledore. "We must go back to the castle, now!"

It wasn't a statement, it was a command, one which didn't phase the Professor a bit as he agreed, which I found rather unsettling. He motioned back towards Hogwarts and quickly and silently we all hurried back. Professor McGonagall and another witch, one with bubblegum pink hair who I didn't recognize, stayed behind to deal with Orla's lifeless body.

I stumbled often to my disgust, over the littlest tree roots and weeds, for I was still quite weary and Bill put my arm around his shoulder to help support me. I gave him a grateful smile and he nodded once silently in acknowledgment.

Once in the castle, we turned into what I had once known to be the Great Hall. It was mainly empty, a few people scattered about here and there on various plush settees and comfy chairs that stood grouped around the fire places which were now there. A few people I even recognized, having gone to school with them, though most I didn't. I stared around in awe at the change that had come over the big hall.

Bill suddenly leaned his head towards me and whispered, "Put your hood up. I don't think people should know just yet that you're still alive. Just as a precaution."

I nodded and wrestled briefly with my hood, finally managing to pull it over my head with one hand. We walked up to the stage, where the teachers' high table had once sat, and went through a little door, just visible, off the corner of the stage.

Once in the room, Professor Dumbledore lit a roaring fire while the rest of us settled around the table.

"It should be safe now," Dumbledore spoke directly to the robed figure. "Now Orla's true identity has been discovered, I think it's the right time for you to finally reveal who you are. It was wrong to have somebody so young..."

The robes rustled softly as the figure nodded and with one swift motion he pulled back his hood. A familiar shock of blond hair emerged, and then, to my horror and amazement, so did the visage of Draco Malfoy.

Eyes widened (including my own) all over the room, but by now I think everyone was already in too much shock with the day's past events to react more then that.

Draco didn't bother wasting any time with pleasantries. His face, which I used to think had been twisted into a permanent sneer, instead had a look of great worry on it, which unnerved me more then his sneer had ever did.

"Voldemort knows Potter has escaped. He's sent several people after him; in fact, most of his trusted group he's sent! Potter is very valuable to him, with Potter, he knows you won't attack for fear of Potter's life. That girl was just a scout, sent to find Potter then deal with any guards on her way out. She actually managed to get into the castle, and was on her way back to confirm that Potter had actually made it here. Unfortunately, she also saw me when I was talking with you professor."

"But how?" Dumbledore was at a loss for words. "No one was there. . .And why Orla?"

"Honestly, I don't know sir. As to the reason why the Dark Lord sent Orla, it was because her face is known around here, she'd have quick and easy access to both the grounds and all of Hogwarts Castle." Draco paused to take a quick breath before launching back into re-encountering the days events.

" I caught sight of her when I was heading into the bushes beside Hagrid's hut, just disappearing around the bend in the lake. I perused and confronted her. Unfortunately, she didn't want to come quietly, and tried to attack me. I retaliated, but I over-estimated her dueling skills, and. . . well, it was me who killed her."

I heard the whole story, but it didn't begin to register with me until much later. Malfoy had been the one who had helped save me?

"How can you be sure he's on our side Professor?" I spoke up.

"You must just trust-" Dumbledore started to reply, but Malfoy interrupted him.

"I helped save your life Potter, are you brains so addled that you've already forgotten that? Isn't that enough to gain even a little of your trust-" Malfoy snarled, but stopped as Dumbledore lay his hand on his arm as a sign to stop.

"Of course I haven't forgotten," I retorted indignantly, "and as much as I despise to admit it, I'm grateful towards you. But. . . I've heard of what you've done to Hermione. My god, I've even witnessed what you've done to her. How could anybody do that when you're both on the same side?" I challenged him.

To my astonishment, Malfoy didn't try to defend himself; in fact, he bowed his head to the floor with what I could only guess as embarrassment or regret.

"You're right," he said, "but when you saw what you saw, I had not yet joined the Order! And now, I have no choice! If I am to blend right in with all of Voldemort's other Death Eaters, I have to do the exact same things as they do. But what you saw... I haven't touched Hermione since the day I was sworn into the Order. Now, you should know at least with me, Hermione is kept safe. I make sure of that. And soon, if all goes to plan, she too will be free."

I grudgingly accepted his answer for now, but I still wouldn't forget what he had done to Hermione.

"What made you change sides?" Kingsley's strong voice added itself to the conversation, though he was just as confused as the rest of us. Draco Malfoy would have been the last person we'd all have thought would have converted to the Order. "Clearly there must have been something."

"Yeah, surely your heart isn't that nice all by itself." Bill muttered under his breath.

Professor Dumbledore glared sharply at him and Bill reluctantly mumbled a brief apology.

Draco smiled slightly, the first genuine smile I'd ever seen him give. "No Professor, I deserved that comment. Believe it or not, it was my father who made me change." If possible, there were even more puzzled looks after that comment, and Draco gave them a sad smile before explaining.

"No, unfortunately I don't mean dad's loyalties changed. He was too blinded by the Dark Lord's promises to think of ever betraying him like that. One year after Voldemort's resurrection, when He had just started to regain all of his old power, my father happened to get himself into a bit of trouble with Him. Voldemort gave them a female prisoner to try and extract information from, with the instructions that the girl was to be kept alive." Draco paused briefly, taking a sip of water from a flask on his belt before continuing. "Unfortunately, dad's partner got a little too enthusiastic and his Crusticious Curse caused the girl to go crazy and eventually she died from malnutrition. Both dad and his partner were punished for that; in fact, dad's partner, Nigilus, ended up dying from the punishment. Dad was tortured too, the Dark Lord was in a horrible mood that day; it was just after you had the first big raid with the giants. Anyway, dad never did recover from that attack. You may not of noticed it Potter, but ever since then dad's never been quite fully all there in the head."

"I did notice. . .but I thought it was because of me. Because he let me escape on the night of the Tri-Wizard tournament." I spoke up.

"Well, that is part of the reason also-"

"Wait a minute. . .do you mean Malfoy's gone insane?" Mr. Weasly interrupted, shocked. I too was shocked, though I had noticed Draco's father wasn't his usual self, I had just assumed it was because he was frequently drunk.

"Not so much insane. . .just not fully there. Disconnected. You wouldn't really notice it unless you knew him before hand. It didn't help that Voldemort eventually stripped him of his title, his reputation; he ruined my father! That's when I realized. . .Voldemort didn't care! About anyone, or anything."

"It took your father's demise to see Voldemort didn't care!" Bill spat, disgusted. "What about all the lies he's given, the torturing, the bloody bodies piling up at his feet for crying out loud!"

"Look, I followed Voldemort because of the way I was brought up!" Draco argued back defensivly. "I grew up being taught by my parents that muggles were just like stupid cows; an embarrassment to the magic folk! I was taught that the Dark Lord would protect us, give us power, and money. We'd never have to worry. That the reason my father killed people, was because people were trying to dispose of Voldemort's ideals. Don't you see? I was scared! Those ideals that they were trying to get rid of, was everything that made up my life! Because my father worked for Voldemort we were rich. We had power. People who tried to destroy my perfect little life were the enemies!" He paused scrambling around for something else to say, but instead collapsed back into his seat and took a deep breath to try and calm down.

"Look. . . the point is, when Voldemort did that to my father, he showed that he didn't care about anybody; not even the people who he called his most trusted followers; his elite group. After some serious- and I mean serious!- thinking, I began to realize that your group was the ones who really cared about people's lives. You were the ones doing the right thing after all. You weren't trying to destroy Voldemort's ideals just because you wanted all the power; or because you were just plain stupid. You cared about everybody, took anybody in and offered them care and food, and a home when, for all you knew they could be spies for the Dark Lord. It finally made me realize that I don't need power and wealth to keep me safe in my life. Plenty of people live happily on a fraction of what we had. So that's when I came to visit Dumbledore; ask his forgiveness. That's when I became his most useful spy."

"I must apologize everybody." Professor Dumbledore announced when it was clear Draco was done speaking for the time being. "I kept Draco's true identity a secret from you all because the whole war rested on the information he could provide us. He also kept Voldemort's prisoners as safe as possible, with out blowing his cover.

"It was me who convinced Voldemort to put my father in charge of Potter." Draco added. "My father is constantly drunk now, I thought that might also help us in the future should we get Potter out of there. Which it did." He gave a small, almost gloating smile, which reminded me a lot of the old Malfoy I used to know when we were at school together.

"Look, you've gotten us all off of topic!" Snape suddenly snapped. "What got you so worked up earlier?"

"Oh crap!" Draco suddenly looked furious with himself. "I can't believe I forgot! Look, as soon as Orla was done here, she was to report back the Death Eaters located just outside of Hogwarts grounds. They were to wait there for one hour, while Orla then apparated to Hogsmeade, where there's another group of Death Eaters located, a larger one. Professor," Draco suddenly groaned with the worried look back in his eyes, "I think the Dark Lord has finally lost it. I don't know what he's up to, but he's sent most of his trusted Death Eaters. Just to bring back Potter!"

"But why would he do that?" Kingsley asked urgently, suddenly sitting forward in his seat.

"That's just it," Draco replied. " Voldemort could easily beat us even without Potter, if we took the fight to him. There's simply too many of his supporters! But now he's divided his forces. . . even we can take down all the Death Eaters he's sent. And think of the victory it'll give us! Voldemort will be left without his most valuable warriors, giving us the perfect opportunity to launch our own attack."

"That's unlike him," Dumbledore frowned, "there has to be more to it then we see. But we can't afford to let this chance go by. Do you know where exactly the two forces are located?"

"No, but I could easily find out. They still think I'm on their side, of course."

"When was Orla due to report back to them?" Bill asked thoughtfully.

"Um. . .what day is it today?" Draco asked slightly sheepishly. I chuckled a bit, even with what was going on. I had never seen Malfoy embarrassed like this before!

"Wednesday," Dumbledore answered, and even he too had a small smile on his face.

"Right, thanks. Harry disappeared on Sunday, though the Dark Lord wasn't able to be alerted until the Tuesday, since no one knew where He was. He sent Orla out immediately, gave her as long as three days to find out as much information as she could; how Potter escaped, ecetera. So that should mean we have until Friday evening, absolute latest." Draco concluded at last.

"They probably would prefer to attack us at night." Professor McGonagall thought aloud, both her and the pink haired witch having rejoined the group several minutes ago. "Reduced visibility, and the majority of the people here would be sleeping. Being tired always leads to mistakes, that's what they'll be counting on."

"But, we don't want them to bring the fight to us in this case." Dumbledore realized. "It may lead to more casualties here, what with there being a lot of trainees and orphan children staying here at the moment. No, we should attack them first. They expect Orla to alert them of what's going to happen. . .that means that, for the moment at least, we have the upper hand.

"About bloody damn time." Bill muttered crudely, causing everybody to grin.

Dumbledore chuckled before getting down to business. "Right," he said, "it's time for us to make our attack strategies then."

"It should be simple enough Professor." Mr. Weasley commented absently.

"Oh really Authur, these are Voldemort's best fighters!" Professor McGonagall countered sharply. "They aren't going to be asleep on the job, or cast their spells the wrong way. They've been doing this for years, even since Lily and James were still alive! But this time, we should be able to prevent anybody from our side being killed."

"If you try and save everybody, you'll all end up getting killed. Surely you've learned that by now, Minerva." Dumbledore spoke softly. Shudders went down my spine with that reply.

"And if we keep getting off topic like this, we will be killed!" Snape intervened sharply.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and gave it an experienced wave, muttering quick word under his breath. I watched him, quite puzzled as he walked over towards the door that we had entered and opened it. A flash of white shot past his head, nearly taking off his ear. It shot around the room once, before flying back to Dumbledore, who grabbed it out of the air swiftly.

He plopped it on the table, and now I could finally see that it was several pieces of parchment; one of which was my Maurder's map! We all poured over the second piece of parchment and the headmaster pointed to one spot on it. "That's the only spot where the Death Eaters located outside of the castle could be with out being seen," he began, "but still keep a close watch on the castle, which I'd imagine they're doing."

Draco nodded his agreement. "In Hogsmeade they'd most likely be here," he said, pointing to another spot, located just outside of Hogsmeade. "Oh, and we've used that one before," he pointed to another, "it's far away from the town so the villagers won't stumble upon them, but still close enough for Orla to have gotten there. Though, there will still be the odd scout lurking around; I bet the two groups keep in contact regularly."

"So that's a problem itself." Bill contributed.

"How so?" McGonagall asked.

"Well, they've got scouts. That means if we were to take out the first group, the second group would be alerted by the scouts which we'd have no way of stopping if we don't know where they are. And I'm guessing the second group is much larger then the first." Bill pointed out to her.

"So we should attack the group in Hogsmeade first." McGonagall pointed out logically.

"But then that works the same way," Snape said bluntly, "but instead the other group is back up. Anyway, how can we attack the second group first? Flying is too conspicuous, and we can't sneak enough of us past the ones stationed outside of the drive, which means we can't apparate. Portkeys are too clumsey. They've got us trapped."

"That's not the only way out of Hogwarts," I interrupted suddenly.

There was a long pause.

"Well, what do you mean Potter?" Snape pressed.

"Well, there's a tunnel isn't there. . .leads straight into Hogsmeade. And," I had a sudden thought, "then you could attack both groups at once. That way you wouldn't have to worry about back up."

"There's a tunnel?" Professor Dumbledore said, astonished. "Where?"

I smiled slowly as a plan began to work itself out in my head, feeling glad to be finally helping in this damn war. Things just had to improve now, didn't they? _And. . ._ a small part of me whispered eagerly,_ it's finally your time for revenge._

_

* * *

_

Okay.so that last line makes Harry look a little scary. But if you'd been kept prisoner for four years of your life, only to find out people you loved had been horribly killed, I think you might want a little revenge also. Only a few more to the end, I foresee. Maybe two more? Twice as long as what I had intended it to be anyway.

Thanks so much for your patience! Please review!

**Dalamar**


	9. The Worst Kind of Dreaming

**_Author's Note:_** Once again, sorry about the delay, though I'm sure as you've all guessed by now this is going to become a regular thing with me. Once this summer comes (and believe me, this story will still be on by then) I'll have much more time to write and therefore, more time to update. Unless, of course, my computer decided to explode, (which it does seem to do quite frequently) when ever an important school project due date looms ahead the next day.

With out further ado, the **_ninth_** chapter.

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****

Harry's P.O.V.

"Harry? Harry" I heard a voice whisper urgently and I opened my eyes, jumping as a familiar (and terrifying) face appeared suddenly in front of me.

I choked.

"Well Mr. Potter?" I managed to drag my gaze away from Hermione…who was sitting on a chair right across the table from me, to look Professor Trewlaney in the eye.

"Professor?"

"So, what did you see Mr. Potter?" She probed anxiously. I felt red coming to my cheeks as I stuttered, trying to form sentences as I realized the room was full of old classmates… and all eyes were in my direction.

CRASH!

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a blue blur streaking across the floor, and then witnessed one of the tables on the side of the room collapse with a resounding commotion.

Hermione winked at me, while discreetly slipped her wand back up into the sleeve of her robes, and as Professor Trewlaney hurried over to investigate, dropped it back into her pocket.

The bell rang and we hurried out of the divination classroom leaving the distraught professor moaning over one of her precious scrying bowls. Ron was too busy immitating Trelawney's hysterics to notice Hermione annoyingly shooting worried looks my way.

"Are you all right mate?" Ron asked quietly, finally picking up on Hermione's glances. Hermione put out a hand to stop us as soon as we reached a quite spot in the corner of a door way.

_Hearing things no one else can, is never a good sign, even in the wizarding world...  
_

Did this count as hearing something? More like living, breathing...It sure felt real. Too real. 

"I'm fine," I lied with forced cheerfulness. "I was just dozing, she startled me."

Ron sniggered. I could tell he was relieved. Hermione however, I could see wasn't convinced for one moment. I decided to change the subject as I started walking again, and hoped she'd get the hint and not bring it up in front of Ron. The less people involved, the better.

"Well, what do we have next?"

"It's lunch time." Hermione replied, raising an eyebrow.

I pleaded to her to stay silent with my eyes, and she gave me the barest of nods.

"Come on, lets go drop our stuff of before we go get lunch. It was so crowded yesterday, and I don't fancy going crawling all under the Slytherin table again looking for my homework when that idiot Neville kicks my bag over." Ron suggested, a bit crossly.

"How about you go save us a spot or we'll never be able to eat." Hermione replied, "We can drop your stuff off for you."

"All right," Ron shrugged indifferently, and tossed me his arithmacy text book and parchment and depositing his tote bag with his quills and ink in it with Hermione . "I'll see you in a couple of minutes."

Leaving Ron behind on the third floor, we headed up towards the Gryffindor Dormitory, and as soon as we were out of ear shot from everybody, Hermione glanced around cautiously before pouncing on me.

"All right," she began heatedly," just what exactly did you not want me to say in front of Ron? What did you see in the divination room, that you couldn't even tell him."

"And don't lie." She glared.

"Look," I sighed, "this isn't exactly the right place to tell you."

"This is the perfect place, Harry. Take a look around! We're no where near the dormitory in case you hadn't noticed, and I see that you didn't, and if we did go there it'll be packed anyway. We're not the only people who go to drop off our stuff, so tell me what did you see that got you so bothered that you couldn't even form sentences properly?" She demanded in one long breath.

I stared at her, momentarily stunned by her sudden outburst. "It's complicated Hermione, you wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

"Just try me." She challenged, her eyes flashing. "Four years ago I would have considered you mental if you told me I'd be able to fly on a broom, pixies weren't just figments of my imagination, that I'd make friends with a werewolf and an escaped convict that's just misunderstood." She retorted smartly, "I've learned a lot here at Hogwarts and one of the biggest lessons I think we've all learnt is not to be so narrow minded towards things."

I decided to (wisely) give in.

"Right…well I don't know how to tell you this bu. . .I wasn't here. Well, I was, but I was in the future. Or at least, I saw what was going to happen in our future."

"That's not possible." She blurted out immediately, astounded.

"What were you just telling me…" I retorted lightly, despite the situation, causing her to blush.

"I'm sorry. Go on."

"Well, I was in the future. It was horrid Hermione, VoldemortHe was back. And he'd killed Ron, and Remus, and most of the Weasley's…and he'd captured us. Right in the summer after the Tounament. It was horrid Hermione, so real…and god, you know Hermione, I just wanted to die there! I was Voldemort's. . .slave, and so were you. I know it wasn't just a dream, it can't have possibly been. I can tell you right now ever single event that led up to it, every single detail is still etched clearly in my mind. No dreams are like that, are they?

"Not usually," she replied slowly, after a moments thought, "normally they seem to make sense at the time, but then, when you wake up they seem to miss parts, or things that happened couldn't have possibly happened. But Harry, what you're saying is, well, extreme! Surely you're going to go to Professor Dumbledore about this?"

"No." I replied firmly.

"Why ever not? If you think Voldemort's coming back…" She let the sentence hang in mid-air, unfinished.

"How can you forget Hermione, Voldemort is back. How could you forget the TriWizard Tournament...Cedric. Telling Dumbledore my dream...it's not going to make a difference anyway." I argued.

"What are you talking about? You shouldn't even threaten things like that Harry!"

"Like what?" I finally stopped to take a breath and gazed at her openmouthed. She couldn't have surprised me more then if she had suddenly sprouted six more arms. Come to think of it, I'm willing to bet that that wouldn't even have surprised me any more.

I had a sudden horrid thought, causing my stomach to churn rapidly, and my skin to prick. Shivering, I forced myself to swallow. "Hermione….what's the date today?" I asked slowly.

"May 14th."

"And what year are we in…" I prodded her reluctantly, not wanting to hear the answer.

"Third. Harry, are you sure you're all right?"

"No,Hermione, I don't think I am…" I slowly replied, my mind in a state of shock. This couldn't be happening…what was going on!

"Perhaps you should go to the hospital wi-"

"No." I snapped even before she could get her sentence out..

"All right, there's no need to bite my head off!" she retorted. "Look, we'd better hurry up to the dormitory then, and drop of our stuff, otherwise Ron is going to get suspicious. And I need some time to think. Come on."

She turned around and opened the portrait, and sudden the noise level increased by a few decibels. She clambered in ahead of me and was greeted by a pie smacking her in the face.

"Pphrag!" She growled loudly, and attempted to pull the pie of her face. The pie clearly wasn't helping, it was clinging for dear life to her nose.

Fred dared to come strolling over to us, trying to avoid the food fight that was going on around him, tears nearly streaming down his face. "How do you like our newest invention Hermione?" He managed to choke out between laughs.

He paid dearly for that remark as she replied by pulling it off her nose slamming it into his face.

"Hey, 'mione!" he exclaimed, and fumbled around in his pocket for his wand. Giving it a tap, the pie went limp and cherries splattered all over the rug as it fell to the ground. Fred chose to ignore it.

"Chomping Cherry pies." He announced proudly. "Fred bought some of those biting teacups from Zonkos a while back and it gave us the idea." I took a closer look and realised I'd, once again, mixed up which Weasly twin was which.

"What exactly did you do…" Hermione glanced around, rather taken aback. "And just where is Percy? I thought he'd be after you by now."

"Already downstairs having lunch. If we've timed it right, we'll all have disappeared just before the pompous git gets back." George grinned evilly. "It wasn't our fault. I couldn't resist trying one on Katie, and she turned on me. I couldn't just ignore her declaration of war now could I?"

"I'm sure."

"Hey Harry!" Neville hollered to me from the other side of the common room. "I've got your Care of Magical Creatures text book!" He stumbled over a chair on his way over and as he came to a stop he slid on the pie at George's feet and went slipping head first into the entrance way, straight into Percy, who was just coming in through the portrait.

"JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALL DOING?" Percy shrieked as he glanced around the room. A final pie flew through the air, thrown by one over-excited first year, and as if everything was in slow motion, smacked Percy hard, right in the middle of his face.

The common room went deathly quiet as the pie fell limply to the floor, leaving a whip cream and cherry covered Percy

Hermione tugged on my arm as Percy went stumbling past, tripping over Neville who was still lying dazed on the floor, to land face first into another pie, which latched itself firmly on to his nose. We quickly left as inconspicuously as we possibly could in the chaos.

Once out of the corridor she burst out laughing, and then quickly shut up so we could hear Percy chew Fred and George out.

"Bugger!" I exclaimed as we were half way down to the Great Hall, "I've forgotten to drop my stuff off. Look, you go on ahead, I'll meet you down there in a couple of minutes."

"Sure," she nodded, and as she hurried of down the hall, I doubled back the way we had just come.

I stopped as I got to what I recognized as the fourth floor landing and look around nervously. This hadn't been the way we'd come…I took a turn down a new corridor and decided to cut through the library, I knew of a passage way on the other side which went up to my floor.

Even during lunch time the library was packed, and I snickered as I overheard a small group of first years scrambling to get their potions theory homework done that they had neglected to do the previous evening. They'd soon learn! Nobody likes spending quality time with Snape during detention.

As soon as I reached the Fat Lady's portrait I decided it was in my best interest to turn right back around and head to the Great Hall. From the sounds of hoarse yelling and the occasional mysterious fizz, it sounded like I'd have been risking my neck if I entered into the war that was still going on between Percy and the twins. From comments ranging from "Put me down!" and "Change it back!" to "Are you insane? You'll blow up the fire place!" (from Percy) I assumed the argument had rapidly progressed from simply being a small verbal dispute between the Weasly brothers.

"You didn't drop your things off." Hermione eyed me suspiciously as I sat down across from her.

"Fred, George and Percy were still fighting when I got back. Sounds like they'd managed to get world war three started in our Common Room. Thought it's be best not to interrupt them."

Ron snorted. "Wise Harry, very wise. Last year when he pissed them off they tried to put a charm on him that would make him sing whenever he opened his mouth." Ron shuddered. "Thank goodness they missed, have you ever heard Percy sing in the shower? Bleeding racket, sounds like cats are dying, but anyway, they hit mum's teapot instead. Don't know what's worse, Percy or mum and the teapot. Damn thing wouldn't shut up for months and it made the tea go all white and frothy, not to mention mum was harping on about it for ages."

I started loading my plate up with food that I felt like I hadn't eaten for ages; sausages, peas, bubble 'n' squeak roast beef and gravy and the best of all…Yorkshire Pudding .

"Harry, did you even think to go to Professor Lupin about your-"

I kicked her under the table, having a good idea of what she was going to say. She shot me a death glare as she finished. "I was going to say about your Care of Magical Creatures homework? I mean, magical creatures that seems to be what he specializes in and all."

"What Care of Magical Creatures homework?" Ron butted in, panicking slightly. "Care of Magical Creatures is next class!"

"Dere wasfent any honewok," I reassured him through a mouthful of potato before swallowing, "There was just a question I had and Hagrid didn't know the answer."

"Look, he's not at the Head Table, that means he should be in his office about now." Hermione persisted, "You should go ask him."

"Fine." I sighed gazing longingly at my half eaten dinner.

"Men." She huffed. "All you think about are your stomachs."

"See you later," I called out and got up and left, leaving a scowling Ron to calm her down.

"And there you have it," I concluded to the Professor.

"That sounds like quite an adventure Harry." He frowned over his cup of tea "Are you feeling all right?"

"Why does everybody keep asking me that?" I sighed.

He gave a bemused grin. "All right, I was only checking. You must admit Harry, it does sound a bit far-fetched, even for in the wizarding world. But," he continued, "A dream with that extensive details. . .there must be some sort of meaning in it for you, even if it's as simple and stupid as remember to brush your teeth."

"I do brush my teeth," I muttered. "So, you don't just think I should forget about it?"

"Quite the contrary. In fact, I don't think you'll be able to forget it. I believe it'll keep reoccurring until you resolve it, in one way or another."

"So, basically you mean until I die." I stated bluntly.

"Not necessarily. You're giving up to easily Harry, that's not like you."

"Professor, you know what Voldemort was like. He was alive when you were my age, and he caused so much pain and destruction and then he was human. Now. . .he's some kind of monster."

"You've fought monsters before Harry. What makes him so different?"

"With all due respect Professor, would you really be treating the matter like this if Voldemort was really alive?"

"Probably not." He admitted, sighing softly, and rubbing a sleeve across his eyes.

"Look, the best advice I can give you is this," he began after a long pause, "Stop thinking that you have to do all this alone. Take the day we fought the boggart for example. By yourself, the boggart is a formidable opponent for any wizard, because it has one great advantage, and that's to use the person's fear against them. But, once you add in a friend. . .well, suddenly the battle became that much easier."

"But the boggart can't kill people. Voldemort can." I protested.

"You're mistaken Harry. The boggart can kill. Just as the boggart uses a person's fear against them, Voldemort can now do the same. The mere mention of his name has such a negative connotation coupled with it that... well, you've seen what it can do to even the most courageous of teachers, such as Professor McGonagall. But if you learn to just let everything go, all your fear and apprehension, and just learn to not care, then suddenly, Voldemort has lost his one big advantage over you. Guaranteed, he does still have tremendous amounts of power, but he too does have his weaknesses. He can be defeated. Maybe not alone, but I'm sure that's no problem from the sounds of it."

"But if more get involved, more people will die." I protested weakly.

"Harry, death is inevitable in all wars, for war is death. Yes, people will be murdered, and some of them will be close to you, but skirting around the issue won't do any good, for then suddenly you lose all motivation and concentration on the problem. However, face it head on, and you have a huge advantage. Suddenly, you're not fighting reluctantly, but with determination, and passion, and that can be a colossal difference in the final outcome. It could mean the difference between winning, and losing."

"You sound like you are speaking from experience." I replied quietly.

A wistful, distant look appeared in his eyes, and his voice went rather husky. "Yes, it does come from experience. I've lost many people close to me in that war, your parents for one. Sirius. And it doesn't just come from the people we lose, it comes from the future we can now never have."

A shudder quickly raced up my spine.

"Another example," he pressed on, obviously trying to get off the subject of the Maurders, "take me being a werewolf. If I were to skirt around it, ignoring, even denying the problem, I could hurt people. I could lose myself totally into my wolf side. But, chose to face it head on and suddenly, I can live like a normal human being the other twenty-seven days of the month. I don't live in terror of the 'what ifs' and the 'maybes', and the 'why me?' anymore."

"That's what you think?"

"Used to think." He corrected. "Your father helped me see the... _positive_ way of looking on the issue."

"Look, what I've been trying to get across to you is, put simply, this; feel the fear and do it anyway. Weigh the possibilities; what do you have to lose and what could you gain. Ultimately, only you can make the final decision. And what ever one you make, it's sure to be the right one, because you truely are a good person Harry. You're so much like your father, it's astonishing and I know he'd make the right decision."

He glanced at a clock on his wall, and gave a start. "I've made you late for class." He rustled around in his desk and, after briefly wrestling with a draw (who was determined to take off one of Lupin's fingers) he emerged with a piece of parchment and a quill.

"What class should you be in now?"

"Um…Care of Magical Creatures, I think." Hopefully Ron didn't get his schedule mixed up at lunch.

"Right, that makes it easier. Hagrid will understand," he muttered to himself, as he hastily scribbled a note.

"Here." He straightened up, handing me the note and walked me to the door.

"Thanks for listening Professor."

"It's no trouble at all, Harry. Don't hesitate to come and talk again if you need to."

I grinned gratefully and exited the door, hurrying rapidly down the corridor.

"Harry, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but," I groaned silently. There was always a 'but'.

"…the worst that could have happened is that you die."

I snorted. That was sure unexpected. That's exactly what Professor Lupin said. "Oh yes, that's the worst that could happen all right. But you know, I happen to like living Hermione."

I received a few curious and bewildered stares at that last statement from a few of my classmates sitting closer to me, and I lowered my voice further as my Knarl bit me on the finger.

"I perfer you living too Harry. You said yourself though, that it's just a dream. But since it's so important to you….look, Voldemort isn't a god. Maybe it seems like it, but he does have his weaknesses, just like any mortal creature. If he didn't, he never would have feared Professor Dumbledore. If he didn't…he just may have managed to destroy the wizarding world twelve years ago."

"Hermione, we don't even know if he's mortal anymore!" I cried. This was so infuriating, not knowing.

"Yes, we do Hary! If he wasn't, he wouldn't be hiding behind other people, getting them to do all his dirty work. He wouldn't need them to, because…" She trailed off, not having to finish the ending.

She didn't have to. I knew only too well what she meant.

I froze.

No, not just for something to say, or out of fear, I mean, I literally froze. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't alert Hermione, couldn't even bat my own eyelids for crying out loud!

When I didn't reply she looked at me curiously. "Harry? Harry? Are you all right?"

She went blurry…

"Harry!"

No…

"Bloody hell, come on Harry! Wake up!"

"No, Hermione, I'm—" Hang on, there we go…"Hermione?"

"Bugger off Harry, do I really look like I'm Hermione?" An indignant voice spoke up. "Open your eyes, mate."

I groaned as I sat up stretching my legs, and opened my eyes. Only to come face to face with Bill.

"Ahh!"

"That's not the reaction I'd like." Bill joked, though still looking a bit worried as he smoothed a hand over the stubble beginning to appear on his face. "You all right?"

People seem to be asking me that a lot today.

"I'm fine," I croaked, and struggled to sit up properly on the chair.

"Uh huh." He gave me a strange look. "It's settled then, we're about ready to go. Dumbledore's just waiting for Professor Snape." His brow furrowed slightly as he mentioned Snape's name.

"What?" I asked warily.

"Nothing." Bill shook his head. "It's just…Snape was acting really strange during the meeting. He looked like he was dozing at first, didn't seem like he was paying any attention to the meeting at all. Then all of a sudden he just shot up and mumbled a small apology to Dumbledore and fled the room."

"What did Dumbledore have to say to that?" I inquired, astounded.

"Didn't even seem to phase him." He shook his head. "Anyway, we're supposed to meet everybody in the Great Hall so you can show us where this tunnel is."

We started off down the hallway, and all I could think was…

We were no where near Gryffindor Tower and suddenly, the entrance was right behind us. Fred and George didn't start their business until fourth year. . .and why Hermione didn't think it strange when I mentioned the Tri-Wizard Tournament and how she knew about both Sirius and Lupin, even before the incident at the Whomping Willow had even happened!

It was a dream. My god, I'm so sorry…Hermione and Ron…Lupin…

It was just a dream.

****

Bill's P.O.V

"No!" I heard a distraught yell coming from Professor Snape followed by a deafening crash reverberating throughout the eerily silent library.

There he was. In the library of all places. It couldn't have hurt him to tell us where he went to. Even when Harry showed us the tunnel, he was aggitated, couldn't stand still. Unnerved most of us.

I hesitated at the doorway to the library and peeked around the corner slowly. No able to see him directly, I decided to creep quietly towards the back of the large room, stopping just out of his line of sight, in between a row of bookcases. . .just what the hell was he up to? I blinked my eyes blearily and peered down at my watch, the face just visible in the dull moonlight let in by the windows.

Three twenty-one a.m.

I edged closer until I could just see Snape's head disappear behind a pile of books located in front of him. He emerged again shortly, with a sweep of his arm brushing all the other books off the table and slam one big volume down that he had just retrieved off of the floor.

That must have been the crash, my tired mind managed to piece together, none to quickly. I shook my head, forcing myself to wake up.

I stood in silence, watching with fascination. . .Snape had never seemed like the anxious type, but now he had opened the large tome and was frantically flipping through the pages. The book looked ancient, the cover shimmered slightly, signifying that it had been fixed many a time with countless spells, and clouds of dust filled the air as he turned each new page and I could see he was struggling to draw in a breath.

"No!" He choked. "No, it was here. . .it was. . ." He broke of into a fit of coughing, and I glanced around nervously. If he wasn't careful he'd wake up the whole damn wing! This mission was suppose to go on in complete secrecy. . .he knew that!

"Ah ha!" Even from where I was standing, I shuddered. The haze of dust began to settle, and I watched as his finger skimmed quickly down the length of the book.

He looked up as the last of the dust disappeared, his face had a snarl across it and his eyes flashed in the flickering candle light emitted by the lantern, with a fierce, almost predatory look.

"I have the answer. . ."

* * *

**Author's Note:** And there we have it. As usual, I have left it at a cliff hanger, though this one isn't too major is it? devilish grin New twist in the plot, so that means, instead of this being the last chapter as planned, I still have about another three at least to go. 

As usual, comment, questions, mistakes, let me know. I'd really like to know if you think this is starting to drag along a bit. chews on lip thoughtfully

Huge thank-you goes out to **Googlepuss** for pointing out the tunnel bit, however, that wasn't the tunnel I meant. Also, thanks for a much wanted piece of constructive criticism.

Also arigato, gracias, merci, obrigada, etc etc. to all the new readers reviewing, and LOL at the reader **BOB** who gave what is possibly the shortest review I have ever received.

Over and Out,

Dalamar

1- Yorkshire Pudding isn't actually a pudding for those of you that don't know. It is part of the main course and it's delicious!


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